


Shelter

by amyponders



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Attempt at Humor, Awkward Crush, Bittersweet, Bittersweet Ending, Blood and Violence, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Canon Divergence - Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Canon Related, Canon Rewrite, Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, Cheesy, Civil War (Marvel), Comfort/Angst, Crushes, Dialogue Light, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Violence, Drama & Romance, During Canon, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Male-Female Friendship, Minor Violence, Natasha Romanoff - Freeform, Natasha Romanov Feels, Neighbors, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Out of Character, Past Brainwashing, Past Domestic Violence, Pet Names, Pets, Pregnancy, Protective Bucky Barnes, Romance, Romanian Bucky Barnes, Romantic Friendship, Sad, Sad Ending, Scarlet Witch - Freeform, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Some Humor, Unhappy Ending, Unhealthy Relationships, Unplanned Pregnancy, Winter Soldier - Freeform, buckynat - Freeform, winterwidow - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:20:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 27,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24665272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyponders/pseuds/amyponders
Summary: Natasha is a young pregnant college student stuck in a bad relationship and Bucky is his new neighbor who's trying to cope with his returning memories while laying low away from HYDRA's grip. They fall slowly in love until a stranger comes knocking at his door threatening all he tried to build with her. AU set during Bucky's time in Romania in CA: CW.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this piece almost two years ago. It was one of the first fics I ever wrote. It was a fun and incredibly personal project where I didn't put any deadlines or expectations on myself and merely just wrote my ideal Bucky... I didn't intend to publish it but what the hell? lol It's almost complete now so might as well. I literally only have the final scene left to write but I've been putting it off for months. Let's see if by publishing it I finally pressure myself into doing it. I hope you like it!

[Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7l5cBVQMLizSdZMW2U3bwY?si=gEQ94Z_ZRXeS1vAms2ljKQ)

When he first moved in here he knew he wasn’t going to live in the quietest building in town. And he never imagined he’d have particularly peaceful days in the traditional sense, just safe ones, away from the government’s prying eyes and HYDRA’s poisonous hand. But this was the fourth night in a row where he could hear people arguing in the apartment across the hall. He couldn’t tell what they were fighting about, just that there were two voices: a young woman’s and a man’s. They’ve been at it for a while. Heavy footsteps on wooden floors, the male voice getting closer, the screeching of an old door being opened, and the sound of it being slammed. And then quiet… 

Bucky sighed aloud and took the pillow off his face. He turned in bed trying to find a position comfortable enough to sleep in, but it was useless. His sleep was so light and once awake he had a hard time falling asleep and making the voices go quiet again. Not the ones across the hall, no, but rather the ones inside his head. The ones that tormented him day and night and never took any days off. Some days they were quieter and easier to ignore, but they were always there, dormant, ready to pounce when he least expected it. He decided to go to the kitchen and make himself some tea. His stomach was rumbling anyway, protesting the quantity of food he put in it lately. He walked the few steps between his bed and his kitchen, truly not much space at all. 

The apartment was small and sparsely equipped, with only a few living essentials and a black duffel bag near the door in case he had to leave unexpectedly in the middle of the night. No spare clothes or food in it though. Just enough money to get out of the country, a gun with the serial number scratched off, two cartridges of ammo, a pocket knife, and a fake passport that identified him as a Romanian citizen. The gun he would probably have to throw away before reaching the border, he thought absentmindedly, strategy always in the back of his mind. Fortunately, he was very handy with a knife in close combat. The piles of dead bodies he’d left from Siberia to the States could attest to that. 

He turned the stove on and put some water to boil, then opened the shelf and took out a small jar; the only bag of tea left gave off a strong aroma. He’d have to go out tomorrow to the market to buy some more. He was running out of fresh fruits too, his stomach only seemed to be able to keep down tea, plums, and granola. A hushed splatter started echoing through his apartment. It was raining outside. He heard a faint meow coming from the west wall. He turned his attention to the stove because the water was rapidly boiling. He took a cup out of the sink, poured in the water, and dipped the teabag mechanically. _Rain pattering. Another meow._ His neighbors had cats? Well, if they did, surely one got trapped outside and was asking to go inside now that the rain had started. Or did the building have a no-pet policy? He tried to remember, but the truth is he hadn’t paid that much attention to those small details. 

He’d checked the building for bugs, hidden cameras, and spies. And the only reason he hadn’t run background checks on them was because he didn’t allow himself to go near any sort of technology, in case someone was watching. Luckily, he had other better skills thanks to his years as an undercover asset. He’d learned how to be invisible long ago. He knew the best way to observe people and get whatever information he needed, so he had used those abilities. Only when he was convinced his neighbors were a bunch of regular folks did he decide to settle in there. But he never thought to check for animals. He sipped the hot content slowly, the warmth spreading on his tongue and down his throat. There was scratching on the window now. Resigned, he set his cup of tea down and walked up to the window. 

A black kitten, no bigger than the teacup he’d just drank from was staring at him under the rain. It meowed again and moved his tiny paws to scrape on the glass pane. Bucky furrowed his brow and stooped down. How could something so tiny make so much noise? He opened the window and took the kitten up by its neck. He closed the window quietly; the water was unusually cold. Autumn was drawing its last breath and winter was right around the corner. The kitten fussed a little and yawned but didn’t make another sound once inside. Clearly, what was bothering it was being out in the pouring rain. And who could blame it? Bucky kneeled and set it down on the floor, a puzzled look on his face. 

The kitten shuddered in a movement Bucky was sure he’d only seen dogs do. He looked at the poor animal with his eyebrow up. Upon closer inspection, he realized it wasn’t completely black but it had silver stripes down its front leg. Sometimes, he thought with a hint of irony, the universe likes to have a joke at your expense. And this was one of those moments. Nice one, universe. He’d laugh if his face could remember how. He stood up, went to the bathroom, and took out a towel. 

He threw it over the kitten and watched as it came out from under the towel playfully, before rubbing its fur on the cotton piece. It sat on top of the towel and closed its eyes, clearly not bothered to be away from home, wherever home was. Great. Now how was he going to get rid of it? On second thought, normal people had animals, right? It could help him blend in… Oh, who was he trying to trick? A cat wasn’t going to fool anyone. He decided to keep him, anyway. He could use the distraction.

\---

He didn’t want to seem cagey, but apparently that was his only setting while in public spaces. He turned the key inside the doorknob while holding the bags of groceries on the other, only to be refused by the door. Bucky could hear the footsteps and the voices approaching up the stairs, there were only two apartments per floor, so this definitely meant it was the neighbor and her partner. They were arguing on their way up already, his voice overshadowing hers. She hushed him once they reached the last step. Bucky kept his back to them as he tried to open the door. 

He switched the groceries to his metal arm. He felt uneasy and he looked over his shoulders once, just once, then kept jamming the key in the hole with more force than necessary with his human arm. He was sure that if he’d kept doing that with his other arm, there would be no door by now. The guy gave him a passing glance, but the girl did a not-so-subtle double take. _Click._ The door unlocked just as the guy took her by the arm and ushered her inside their apartment. The arguing resumed.

Bucky closed the door behind him speedily. A sense of relief washed over him. He set the groceries on the counter and collapsed on the sofa. Going out turned into a nightmare every time. He knew he had to start working on his paranoia, it wasn’t helpful to his ‘blending in’ plan to look spooked and defensive all the time. For the first time in decades, he was on his own. No mission, no handler, no curfew, no chain of command to tell him what to do. 

He’d spent countless years living as an instrument, a thing, numbed to any pain, physical or otherwise, and almost machine-like in his approach to people. For as long as he could recall, people were either a superior, a target, or inconvenient collateral. Now that he was figuring out who the human underneath the machine was, he wanted to relate to someone again, to anyone really, but truth be told… he was scared of that too. He’d forgotten how to have a conversation, make small talk, ask politely for things. 

He also knew he had to work on his trust issues. But to overcome those he’d have to speak to someone first. And he couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken to anyone other than the cash register’s sweet old lady. And way before that? There was nothing. Just a string of criminals from his HYDRA days. And before that? He drew a blank. His past was like an empty arctic landscape, filled with nothing. Nothing except the cold and seemingly endless loneliness. The icy water lagoons where his memories were stored contained more dangerous traps under the thin ice than a minefield. 

After he ran into the blonde stranger who’d called him his friend, his memories started to come in short flashes and bouts of energy that left him disoriented most of the time. Apart from his kills for HYDRA —he remembered them all— he could also recall the high of a carnival ride, a faceless woman’s joyous laugh (he could almost picture her red curls, but nothing else), the smell of a damp alley in a big city, a blue uniform (or was it green?), the disorienting speed of a train, and a dimly lit saloon with a crowded bar. That irritating bar… it was as if all the people in there had been frozen in time, always static, never changing. Mostly, because through the years, that was all he could picture from the place. 

Sometimes he could sense there was someone else in the memory with him, someone very important, standing by his side. He could never figure out who it was, where that bar was, or what he was doing there in the first place. That was the memory that haunted him the most... A low purr brought him back to the present. Luckily for his capricious new roommate, he’d still had some milk left. Bucky started making his way to the kitchen to find a bowl. That kitten would need a name if it was going to stay.


	2. Chapter 2

A few days later, around dinnertime, Bucky heard the door of his apartment being knocked on softly. He was coming out of the bathroom, wearing sweatpants and a towel around his neck. He’d left the stove on low heat just in case the soup decided to boil before he was done showering. Not that it mattered now, but he was remarkably quick showering. His years as a super-soldier left him with little time to waste in meaningless things. The mission always came first, his needs second. When on long missions he used to set aside 20 minutes to eat and bathe, and a meager 4 hours to sleep, when he was that lucky. That left him with 19 hours and 40 minutes to do HYDRA’s bidding. 

But as quick as he knew he could be in the shower, he also didn’t want to burn down the apartment complex. After all, he was only just starting to learn how to cook. And so far, there were two things he knew for sure: one, his cooking sucked and two, he was always alone. In his four months in that grisly apartment, no one had ever rung the bell. So, naturally, when that strange noise came, he was startled. He thought perhaps the worst had finally happened. But he never imagined for a second that when the day came, they’d be so polite as to knock on the door first before coming in to take him. Maybe they had to keep up appearances. Maybe... you never got to know your enemy as well as you think you did.

He turned off the stove, grabbed a small gun he kept under the kitchen sink, and without making a sound walked up to the wall to peek through the peephole. When all he saw was a mane of light reddish hair - his neighbors’ hair - he was even more confused. Had she been sent there to get him? He put down the gun behind his back, deciding to keep up appearances as well. She wasn’t that big anyway, and he could dispose of her with a quick routine, if necessary. He opened the door slowly, not sure what expression he should twist his face into. What face said: ‘I’ve been living undercover for months because there are people out there to kill me, or worse?’ Whatever it was, he needed to use the opposite of that, if he was to not raise any suspicions with her.

“Hi! Hello there.” A silky voice said. The girl bounced a little on her tiptoes. She was wearing a light pink tank top and matching jogging shorts.

Bucky blinked impassively.

“I’m your neighbor from across the hall.” She motioned towards the door of her apartment, still open. “I was wondering if you could come with me for a moment. I’m in kind of a pickle.” She bit her lip after the last sentence. 

The first thing he noticed was that she had a beautiful voice. The second was that she was smaller than he remembered from their rare encounters in the hall. Her arms were thin, she couldn’t be over 5’2” and her body was small. Not child-like little, just petite. She had hazel-brown eyes, the color of warm wood and she sounded tired underneath her bubbly demeanor. He figured she couldn’t be a spy sent to kill him, but nevertheless he was going to keep his guard up until he knew what her deal was.

“Please, neighbor. I know we haven’t talked before and this is strange, but I could really use a hand right now. My parents aren’t close. And I don’t really know anyone else here.” She looked down at his partial figure through the door. Even standing in the backlight coming out of his apartment and into the threshold, she could tell his body was unbelievably ripped. Maybe he could help her after all.

“What about your boyfriend?” Bucky spat out in a hoarse voice, clearly from the lack of use. He cleared his throat. 

“My boyfriend?” She repeated dumbfounded, before looking up at his face. “He’s not around… at the moment. That’s why I-” She stopped mid-sentence. “Please just… come.” 

Bucky threw the towel to the floor and closed the door on her face abruptly. It only took three strides for him to reach his bed and a long-sleeved shirt he kept always at hand. He put his metal hand inside his pocket and rushed back to the door where a perplexed girl was still standing. Suddenly, he realized she probably thought he’d closed the door on her on purpose. He closed it again slowly, this time behind him. Instead of saying something, she spun on her heels and walked to her apartment, holding the door open for him. 

When he entered the space, it was like stepping into another world. At least one very different from his. The light entered through her big ceiling-to-floor window; color was splashed everywhere; there were various canvases lying around and a few other more hanging from the walls with incredibly detailed hand-painted portraits and landscapes; a flowerpot with bright orange poms and what he thought were daisies sat on the kitchen counter. There was a strange mix of aromas in the air. It smelled of grilled potatoes, meat stew, and vanilla pudding. Bucky turned his head towards the stove but didn’t see anything. However, there were steaming pots on her two-chair dining table that had clearly just been taken off the heat. His mouth watered a little. He looked around the living room next. The small sofa in the middle of the room was deep purple with black velvety cushions. 

A medium-sized black TV was near the far wall. She had a big pile of DVDs neatly stacked on a shelf. On the opposite side of the TV, there was another shelf with books of all sizes. She had a yellow notebook sitting on a coffee table with painting supplies, coloring pencils, chalk pastels, and a sprawled sketching pad by its side, her smartphone haphazardly holding the page in place. On the floor, there was a closed silver laptop peeking out of a backpack, all of which told him that she was a student. Every detail of the décor was carefully planned. The apartment looked loved and lived in. Not pushed together in a hurry and almost naked except for a hideous wallpaper, like his. A yellow lab dog came rushing and barked at the sight of him before being shushed by her. It sat down on his hind legs and cocked its head to the side in interest. 

“I’m so sorry to bother you, neighbor.”

“Bucky.” He interrupted her hurriedly then cleared his throat again.

“Bucky, nice to meet you, I’m Natasha.” She extended her palm to him. He looked at it for a split second analyzing the odds that she had a trap on her hand, before deciding that he was probably paranoid and then extended her his human hand. Her hand was soft, relaxed, and had tiny freckles on the backside. It was also pleasantly devoid of any explosives, blades, electrical charges, or any other kind of weapon. He looked up at her face, she had a very light speck of freckles across her nose bridge too. They reached her cheeks then suddenly stopped. 

“Like I was saying, I’m sorry to bother you but my bed sort of… broke.” She revealed, lowering her face. A blush spread on top of her freckles. She looked uncomfortable for whatever reason. “I can’t buy another one ‘cuz I don’t have enough money at the moment... And my parents don’t live near.” She added as an afterthought. “And it’s not like I can move over there either. I have- I have to stay here in case- Um… It’s just… if I sleep one more night in that tiny couch I’m gonna murder somebody.” Natasha concluded. 

“What do you need?” Bucky interrupted. He was sort of curious about her but was also growing impatient with her stalling.

“Could you fix it, maybe?” She started walking towards the narrow hallway that divided the rooms in her apartment. He trailed close behind, inspecting every detail, looking for something out of the ordinary.

She opened the door to her room and said: “Come on in, please.” 

The room was an explosion of color, like an extension of her kitchen and living room, with just the right amount of furniture and decorations to make it her space but not seem overstuffed or tacky. Bucky moved closer to look at the bed frame. There was a wooden leg that had collapsed and made the bed look like an avalanche of pillows and sheets coming in his direction. Splinters covered the floor. 

He touched it absentmindedly before saying: “Leg’s broken. You need something to prop it up.”

“I know. But I don’t have anything that could help.”

“I do. I’ll be back.” He said unceremoniously. He walked out of her apartment and into his. He happened to have several metal batons of various sizes inside his closet. There was also a makeshift arsenal of little guns, average guns, big guns, all kinds of knives and a couple of homemade IED’s, but none of those would be of much help in propping the bed up. He picked a particularly thick metal stick and marched back. 

“Is that… a baton?” She asked, staggered.

“Yes.” He answered laconically. 

Bucky knelt and considered the possibility of lifting it with his normal arm. But doing it the easy way would be way quicker. He just wanted to go back to his safe place as soon as possible and forget this unusual exchange ever happened. He turned around and placed his body in a way that obstructed her view and started to lift the bed with his metal arm. It was up in one push: with his other hand, he placed the baton in place and then let the bed come down gradually to rest on top of it.

“All set.” He put his hand in his pocket again and stood up to face his neighbor. She was looking at him with her eyes wide open in a mix of bewilderment and laughter.

“Wow. If I’d known that was all it was gonna take, I would’ve called you days ago!”

“You… you’ve been sleeping on the couch?” He cleared his throat again in between words. He needed a glass of water.

“Yeah. Me and my dog. But like I said, it’s not the most comfortable place. I even slept on the floor at some point. Damian barely fits on the sofa. He’s gotten so big, so I just moved to the floor with him.”

“If that’s all then…” He said changing the subject abruptly, then started walking towards the hallway.

“Hey, would you stay for dinner? Have something to eat.” 

He stopped walking. She was next to him in no time looking at him through the thick layer of his black hair. It was growing all over his face and shoulders now. He needed a haircut desperately, but even the sound of scissors snapping too close to his face bothered him and made him want to jam them in the barber’s neck. 

“Please, let me at least thank you, since I can’t pay you.” She said in a sincere tone and touched his covered metal arm briefly and absent-mindedly while speaking. 

Surely, she meant no harm, but at the sight of her touching him he glared at her in what he was sure was his meanest-yet-still-civil look. However, what surprised him the most wasn't the fact that she didn’t recoil at the touch of his inhumanly hard arm, but rather that she didn’t seem to notice his glower either, or maybe it had no effect on her. Instead, she turned and walked ahead of him as if expecting him to just say yes and follow.

“I’m cooking.” He said in an attempt to bail, but she quipped: “That soup?” A giggle came out of her mouth.

“Yeah.” He responded. “How did you know?” 

“There’s not much space between our doors. I can smell everything you try to cook.”

“ _ Try? _ ” What did she mean  _ try _ ? He scowled.

“Let’s just say my pot stew beats your sad noodle soup any day.”

He frowned even more.

“I’m kidding! But seriously, you’re welcome to stay, Bucky. There’s plenty for two people.”

He fumbled inside his mind trying to think what to do. Should he go back or stay and try to figure out if this girl was worth trusting? His stomach growled at that moment and made up his mind for him. For the first time in months, he was truly starving. 


	3. Chapter 3

“Who were you cooking for?” Bucky asked her. He was sitting at the world’s tiniest dinner table trying to look like he knew how to hold a fork and knife, in front of a girl he’d barely just met and was currently sitting opposite him.

“Sorry?” 

“You said there was plenty for two.” He chewed deliberately slow in order to savor the meat. He was only using one hand, so it took longer than usual to eat. His other hand was tucked away from her sight. Bucky had to admit she cooked really well. At least good enough to bring back his appetite and not upset his stomach in the process. 

“Yeah.”

“So, unless you were cooking for your dog then-”

“My boyfriend.” Natasha interrupted him. “But he’s out of town. It’s been a couple of days, actually. I thought he was getting back today, but he didn’t…” She put a forkful of potatoes in her mouth.

So the boyfriend was out of town. Bucky was wondering why he hadn’t heard any arguing for the past few days. A couple of minutes went by where all they did was gnaw and swallow in silence. She didn’t seem bothered by his silence. If anything, she took the opportunity to shower him with inquisitive looks every few bites or so. She even smiled once or twice, her high cheekbones wrinkling around her almond-colored eyes gleefully, as if he’d told her a joke. 

If he didn’t know better he’d say she looked almost delighted, like she was aware of a secret he was yet to find out. He couldn’t grasp what about him, if anything at all, she could possibly be fascinated with. He’d barely said two words since he met her. It was irritating him a little. He wasn’t used to being looked at so much. He much preferred the privacy of being invisible. Bucky finished his plate and set the fork down maybe a little too hard. 

Natasha spoke next: “I made chocolate pudding.” 

“I’m full.” He stated. He wasn’t lying.

“You should take it with you, then.” She stood up and came back a few heartbeats later with a large glass cup in her hand. 

“But the cup-”

“It’s fine, neighbor, you live right there. Return it when you can.”

He took the pudding in his hand and got up a little unceremoniously. He walked up to the exit and lingered at the door frame for a few seconds before saying: “Thank you, Natasha.” 

“Anytime.” He didn’t need to turn around to know she was smiling.

\---

Ever since she formally introduced herself, he was starting to run into her at odd places. Twice at the local convenience store, where she followed him curiously with her gaze as he tried to pretend he hadn’t seen her both times. Once while going down the small set of stairs of their building, his wide frame blocking her path so badly they had to wiggle awkwardly. Then there was that time he’d seen her out with his boyfriend eating at a Mexican place. He’d entered the restaurant under the not-so-subtle sound of chiming bells and she’d spotted him first before he saw her sitting at a square table alone. They made eye contact for a couple of seconds and she smiled. He debated whether he should walk up to her and be polite, but a moment later he realized she was not alone. Her boyfriend sat down and her smile waned. 

She averted her eyes and changed her posture considerably. And Bucky took that as his window to escape the place, even though he couldn't help but feel strangely guilty about it. Then, one morning at a crosswalk, he saw her across the street from where he was standing. That time she hadn’t seen him, she was looking at her phone attentively. He backtracked swiftly the same way he came in, just so he didn’t have to make eye contact. It only took him a few seconds to walk away through an alley undetected. He’d rather walk the extra distance. He never thought of himself as a coward, but it amazed him the lengths he went to lately just to avoid one single girl that had been nothing but kind to him. He knew he needed friends, but he still couldn’t bring himself to socialize. 

Later that day, he walked to the town’s park, looking for a bench to sit in which wasn’t that out in the open. He’d been out all day doing pointless walking just to get out of his stuffy apartment for a few hours. More often than not, boredom got the best of him. The worst part of laying low was the lack of things to do. Right now he felt like having a quiet moment for himself and he somehow enjoyed the serenity of the park. After some minutes looking, he saw there was an artificial crook with running water that made a peaceful sound. 

The wildlife from the surrounding forest was singing its calming song since it was almost dusk. It was perfect. He tried to clear the fog inside his head by tuning his ears to the serene sounds. And it worked for a while. But then he heard a soft rustle and the sound of feet against gravel. And who comes out of one of the small crooked pathways, but his bubbly neighbor? She walked past him a couple of steps until she suddenly stopped and put down her phone. Bucky sincerely hoped that she’d just stepped on something. But then she turned around ever so slowly, with her brow furrowed playfully while looking at him.

“Hey, neighbor. I wasn’t sure if it was you.” Natasha headed in his direction and stopped short in front of him.

Bucky was positive he looked like a deer caught in headlights at the moment. He stayed quiet.

“It’s weird to run into you here.” Natasha gestured openly. “I always cut through here on my way home from college and I’ve never once seen you.” She pressed while smiling a little. 

“You like walking with that thing in your hand.” He jerked his head towards the phone she was holding.

“Not... always.” She squinted, then added: “I only use it when I’m in the streets...”

“You should probably stay alert around downtown. Not everyone here has good intentions.” He suggested in a quiet voice.

“I know… But I’m usually with my boyfriend so it’s probably them who should be scared.” She said, voice full of irony. “Anyway, um-” Natasha smiled curtly while eyeing him and probably taking his neutral face as a hint that he wasn’t in the mood for small talk. “I should be going. I have lots of homework for tomorrow.”

“Let me walk you back.” Bucky offered. 

He had no idea where that stupid suggestion came from. But he immediately regretted it the second he realized she would likely be talking all the way back. And they were at least a good 15 minutes away from their apartment building.  _ Dammit.  _ Still, he knew that their town  _ could  _ get dangerous after sunset, and he wanted to help people now, right? No other option but to suck it up.

“You don’t have to.” She reacted. “I mean- This was just hello. I wouldn’t want you to cut your plans off for me. I know the way back well...”

“I don’t have any plans. I think I’m done here.” Bucky replied laconically, then stood up and started walking, hands always in his black sweater’s front pockets. A few seconds after that, he heard the rustling of her feet while she caught up with him. And contrary to what he expected, they walked in a comfortable silence all the way back. She seemed more interested in her own thoughts than in getting to know his own. Maybe he’d misjudged her. Maybe she wasn’t that bad after all.


	4. Chapter 4

A scream woke him up. Or at least that’s what he thought it might have been. He’d been listening attentively, sitting on the edge of his bed in the dark for a few minutes now, but he hadn’t heard so much as a pin drop. Perhaps it had been a nightmare after all. The line between madness and reality had always been so blurred for him that it was a possibility. He leaned back onto his pillow and closed his eyes. 

The small hand on the clock ticked one, two, three times, then he heard it again. This time much clearer than it had been minutes ago through the foggy filter of sleep. He couldn’t be dreaming this time because there was also a glass-like shatter followed by a dull sort of noise. He sat back up and it occurred to him it might be his neighbor. She could be in trouble. 

Bucky walked outside of his apartment and stood outside her door trying to catch another sound, but there was nothing. It was suddenly quiet again. He debated whether he should knock, enter or just go back to his apartment and pretend he didn’t hear anything. _Maybe she’s baiting me,_ a part of him said. But maybe she was being robbed or threatened and if he left, what would that make him? Could he live with another horrible stain on his black conscience? That’s when he heard a commotion unraveling and a familiar voice yelling insults. 

“What did you think? That I wasn’t going to find out, huh? Just ‘cuz I left doesn’t mean I didn’t have eyes on you.” 

Another dull noise and this time Bucky realized it was the sound of the palm of a hand hitting skin. He was hitting her. Rage surged through his body like an electrical current waking his muscles up and igniting every nerve ending on fire. He couldn’t miss a move now if he wanted. She shrieked and made indistinct sounds, which sounded like pleas through the door. 

“Shut up or I’ll drown you.”

Bucky kicked the door twice and made a hole big enough to put his arm through it, found the doorknob to lever his hand against it, and ripped the door straight out of its hinge, his bionic arm whirring as it moved powerfully. He strode past the dinner table and saw the guy drowning Natasha in her kitchen sink. There was water overflowing the basin and falling into a puddle on the floor. He was grabbing her forcefully by the hair, but he stopped when he saw the imposing figure coming towards him. Bucky stopped dead in his tracks and glared at him, then at her. He could see, even in the dark room, that she was crying. She coughed non-stop, trying to breathe normally again.

“Who the fuck are you? Is that him, huh? The one you've been cozying up to?” He said with a taunting motion of his body.

He tightened his grip on her hair and pulled her around. She cried in pain and Bucky stepped closer. The guy threw her aside, she hit her forehead on the fridge and landed on her knees on top of what looked like a broken glass cup. 

The man screamed: “C’mon, then! What you waitin’ for?” 

Bucky stepped out of the shadows that half-covered his body. His metal arm gleamed now in the soft light that entered through her floor-to-ceiling window. 

“What the fuck?!” He said in a harsh tone. “Who the fuck are you?!” Was all he managed to get out before Bucky punched him in the face. 

The other man threw himself forcefully against Bucky, but he didn’t have much real fighting abilities so he didn’t last long once Bucky put his hands on him. He was tall and lean and even though he could have used his height as a small advantage, he went for the obvious moves. He ate guys like him for breakfast. He tried to hit Bucky in the head but he ducked effortlessly. Then came another missed move on Bucky’s chest that he promptly returned with a shove that sent him staggering backward. The guy hit the counter and grabbed a knife.  _ Good. _ Bucky thought.  _ My favorite. _

The man tried to reach him stabbing the air between them, but that’s all he managed to hit, air. Bucky seized the knife with his metal arm shortly after and flipped it over, so the blade would point at the guy, then he launched two jabs that hit him spot on: once in his upper arm nicking an artery, then at the joint of his shoulder, detaching bone from flesh like a skilled butcher. A deafening cry crossed the room and blood started to pour out in gushes. The guy doubled over in pain and cursed him audibly, but he refused to step down. 

And that’s when he tried to hit Bucky for the last time with his unwounded arm: he threw a punch that was stopped mid air. Instead, he got his fist crunched by a superhuman arm until he was begging for the pain to stop. He twisted in agony, trying to get loose, but Bucky punched him in the liver with his human hand in a finishing blow. All the air came out of his lungs and through his mouth. Then Bucky finally let go of his broken hand.

Next, the super soldier grabbed him by the neck and hissed to his face: “Leave.” 

From this distance he gave off a strong stench of alcohol. His eyes were unfocused, and his pupils dilated. Bucky put his metal fingers around his neck and lifted him off the ground easily enough. Then he threw him to the side the same way he’d done to Natasha, only from a much higher distance. He heard the unmistakable sound of a bone breaking. He didn’t know exactly which one and he couldn’t care less, he just wanted him out of his sight. The guy was puffing and swearing and crying in pain. He swore pathetically that he would get even, while scurrying out of the apartment to get help, probably. If he didn’t get to a hospital soon, he most likely would bleed out from one of his stab wounds. 

Bucky stood in the middle of the room between him and her, panting in silence. When the man finally left, Bucky kneeled and picked her up from the floor and set her down on the sofa gently. Her knees had several pieces of glass stuck to her skin, lacerating her there. She recoiled from his touch once he set her down and he remembered he wasn’t wearing a shirt, probably not the wisest choice. Her eyes opened wide in bewilderment, exactly at what, though, he wasn’t sure. He stared at her at a loss for words, not sure if he should even say something. He opted for silence, then moved his hands to her knees and started extracting the shards gently. There were traces of dessert in it still, Bucky realized. 

Natasha fussed at first, but once she saw he was only helping she stopped. He got up and found the bathroom and the first aid kit stored in there. In an almost perfunctory movement, he cleansed the wounds and covered them with gauze. Then he grabbed her face as softly as he could to make her look at him. She withdrew a little, the touch of his cold arm on her face surely an unfamiliar and bizarre experience. He was checking her pupils to see if she had a concussion, years of being a violent mercenary had left him with firsthand knowledge of freak injuries and some remedial medical knowledge. When he was convinced that she was fine, he took a towel he’d brought from the bathroom and dried her face. 

Natasha just sat there quiet and motionless, almost doll-like in appearance. As he did his thing, her eyes became bleary, in a sort of detachment. She was in shock, he’d seen it before. He went looking for ice in her fridge and knelt in front of her again to give her a bag she could hold to her face. When he finished, he stayed there for a few seconds. Her eyes were looking down low, avoiding his gaze. He didn’t know what to do next. She probably needed time. Or maybe she needed someone to be there for her. He couldn’t tell which one and he didn’t dare ask. 

Physical wounds he could mend, but emotions were another kind of hurt he couldn’t fix. And he was the least appropriate person for that, anyway. In lack of something else to do, he considered leaving, but then again, she hadn’t thrown him out. So he just sat on the floor and decided to stand watch there until she snapped out of it. It was too dangerous to leave her alone. Almost thirty minutes after that, she lied on the couch sideways. Bucky looked at her and saw that she had been silently crying for a while.

“Damian.” She said out of the blue. 

The sound of her voice reverberated through the air and brought him out of his trance.

He glanced at her.

“He killed him… What kind of monster does that?” She stifled a sob. 

Bucky felt a kick of rage igniting inside of him again, the same rage that had subsided when he’d violently crushed him just minutes ago. And only one thought lingered on his mind at that moment: if he ever crossed paths with that guy again, he  _ would _ kill him.


	5. Chapter 5

He was back in his apartment the next morning, feeling more exhausted than what he’d ever felt after a mission. He suspected that this had more to do with the fact that none of those missions had ever been more than that, a job. But this, this made him emotional and rekindled a part of him that he thought long dead for decades: compassion. _Such a human feeling_ , he mused. And he wasn’t even sure why. It’s not like he’d had an immediate connection to her. He didn’t hang out with her for more than a couple of minutes the day he fixed her bed and she offered him a meal. Yet he could tell she was one of the good ones, and it made him so angry to see her brutalized that way. 

He tossed and turned for hours, thinking about her, her helpless face when he entered the room and all of those times he’d heard arguing over the corridor and never bothered to check. It was clear he’d been abusing her for a long while now. That’s what he got for not bothering to engage the world around him, so caught up in his own misery that he forgot maybe he could be of use to someone else. Not everyone was a bad guy out to get him. It hurt him to think it took this long for him to notice. He shuffled in his bed again trying to fall asleep. The little kitten he’d rescued - still nameless - was sleeping soundly on the sofa. Bucky could see its fuzzy black fur from his bed. 

After long hours, he woke up, feeling slightly disoriented. He sat up and looked at the clock: it was 2:34 pm. His stomach grumbled so he walked up to his kitchen, thinking about what he could put into it to make it shut up. He saw the cup she’d given him sitting in his countertop and wondered if he should go check on her first. 

He leaned into the sink with both hands supporting his weight and his head down low in a defeated position. He felt incredibly inadequate for the task. And as if the universe was hearing his thoughts, a soft calling on the door made him raise his head. He walked quickly to the entrance, not bothering to check first who it was before opening. He knew it had to be her. She was looking down at her bare feet and had an empty measuring cup in her hand. 

“Hi, neighbor.” Natasha said, looking up bashfully. “At the risk of sounding like a movie cliché, I came to ask for some sugar. I ran out and I’m baking a cake.”

 _She was baking a cake?_ After the nightmarish night she’d had... she was baking a cake? Bucky thought he’d misheard for a second. 

He blinked two times before opening his mouth: “Come in, Natasha.” He’d tried to sound kind, but it came off as more of a thinly veiled order. “Please.” He added to soften his previous demand.

The hesitation in her eyes was clear, but nevertheless, she stepped inside and looked around sheepishly. His apartment looked like a monk’s cellar, except messier, maybe. He didn’t have many items decorating the place and nothing in it was ostentatious, and he wasn’t great at keeping it organized or well lit, for that matter.

Bucky summoned all the kindness he could muster to speak. “Listen, Natasha… About what happened-”

“No, you listen, please.” She shook her head. “Thank you. For what you did. I could have… died.” She had trouble getting the last word out as if it was the first time she’d said it out loud.

“Then what were you doing there in the first place?” He spat out. They both knew what he meant.

“It’s complicated, alright.” She raised her voice just a little. “I know it must seem pretty straightforward to you. If he’s an asshole, dump him. But it is not as easy as it seems.”

“Why not?” He didn’t understand what she meant. It was very simple in his head.

“Because it’s not. I don’t wanna talk about it.” Her mood had turned from skittish to sour really quick. 

He looked at the bruises she had on her cheek from the slap and on her neck where the man had grabbed her. Her face wasn’t that swollen thanks to the ice, but her lip was split and looked tender. She had her gaze fixed on the floor.

“I… can help.” Bucky muttered almost under his breath.

Her face softened again. “You already did, sweetie. What you did was really brave. That’s why I’m baking this cake for you. That and I refuse to wallow in self-pity. Things have to go back to normal. I already cleaned the apartment and put… I put…” She trailed off. Natasha inhaled through her nose, then exhaled slowly. Tears welled in her eyes. “I put Damian in his favorite blanket. I’m gonna go bury him on the patio tonight. I wanna say goodbye to him and save him a slice.” She smiled wistfully. “So, how about that cup of sugar, neighbor?” 

Bucky did as she asked then walked to where she was standing in the space between his bed and his kitchen. He looked at her intently, trying to decipher whatever secret she was hiding behind her light golden eyes. 

“I can go with you. I’m pretty handy with a shovel.” He wasn’t lying.

Natasha thought about it for a couple of seconds. “Meet me downstairs at 7 o’clock.” Her eyes trailed over his arm almost unconsciously, before she started backtracking, then she turned on her heels. He noticed she’d made several efforts to only look at his face, even if the metal was gleaming in the harsh light that came from the ceiling. He hadn’t bothered to put on a shirt when he invited her in. She’d already seen him last night and it was too late to try and hide it. Somehow, he knew she wasn’t going to tell anybody. He felt guilty for ever doubting her. 

“Aren’t you gonna ask?” Bucky couldn’t help but question her.

“I just figured there’s a long story behind it that you’d tell me if you wanted to. ‘Though not gonna lie, I’m curious as fuck.” She turned around and smiled. “But everything at your pace, honey…”

How this girl found the strength to be up and running, making plans, baking cakes, and throwing around smiles as if nothing had happened was beyond him. Natasha walked towards him again and touched his metal arm lightly as support to balance herself on her tiptoes, and then she planted a big kiss on his cheek. 

“I owe you.” 

He definitely wasn’t expecting that.

\---

“Neighbor!” Bucky heard Natasha yelled from across the hallway that divided their apartments.

He got up immediately, crossed the hall without hesitation, and entered through her door without knocking. She didn’t sound distressed, but he wasn’t going to knock and be polite until he was sure she wasn’t in danger again. They hadn’t heard from the angry boyfriend for a few weeks now, or so he believed. The two times he’d asked her she’d curtly said she didn’t know of his whereabouts, then changed the subject, and he, not wanting to intrude - and still not really adept at being on a first-name basis with anyone - respected her silence. Even if the lack of an explanation on her part made him feel uneasy. But short of asking her bluntly, he couldn’t think of a way to find out. He strode silently until he saw her half-reclining on her sofa, white paper bags with red logos all around her. 

“Oh, good! I was hoping you’d hear me! I really didn’t feel like getting up.” Natasha said while munching on some takeout Thai food. “I bought some extra noodles, if you want.” 

Bucky sighed relieved, sat down next to her, and picked the container from the bag. He was indeed hungry. In the past weeks, he’d become increasingly dependent on her cooking, to the point where he stopped trying to cook altogether. Ever since that day, she’d always make lunch for two, knock on his door, put a bowl of food by his door, then leave for college, he guessed. Bucky picked the food from the floor and ate quietly in his apartment, with Ike keeping him company, usually snoozing or running around him without a care in the world. In the evenings he could smell her cooking again.

Sometimes she’d invite him over and they ate together, mostly in silence. On other days she’d just leave the food by his door. He’d figured cooking was her way of saying thank you or perhaps of trying to bond gradually. And even though he wasn’t looking to engage the world before, he grew used to her company and even fond of it. Bucky could tell she was kind and earnest. Her voice always sounded sincere and artless, and her honey-colored eyes spoke of an innate warmth. 

She made no attempts to question him or his past, aside from a few furtive inquisitive looks at him every now and then, or sometimes a sly smile. But he was fine with it now. Besides, he was useless in the kitchen, and ever since he started eating her food his appetite had improved loads, so he needed her. The deal clearly worked for everybody.

“Do you even own a shirt?” She asked him, curiosity lingering in the curve of a smile. 

“I do.” He was just shirtless all the time, and there was no point in hiding her arm from her now. “I barely come out of my apartment, so I don’t use it.”

“You visit me…” Natasha pointed out.

“I could go... and put on a shirt if it’s bothering you.” 

“Not at all, sweetie. Relax, I was just teasing.” 

“Why _do_ you even talk to me and invite me here?” Bucky asked in his quiet drawl.

She looked taken aback. “Apart from the fact that you saved my life?”

“Even before that.” He cleared his throat. 

“I enjoy your company.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why’?” Natasha chuckled.

“I mean… I don’t think I qualify as a fun guy to be around if I’m being honest.”

“Who says that’s what I’m looking for? Besides, no one’s perfect, neighbor…” Natasha chewed a little then continued: “Well, if you wanna look at it this way, I'm alone in the city, my best friend can’t be here all the time and I’m not thrilled being on my own for so long if that satisfies your curiosity better.”

“I guess.”

She smiled a small smile and stood up for a second to cross her legs on the sofa, then she sat back down: “You look like…”

He held his breath a little.

“…a friend. Does that make sense?” She cocked her head to the side, her flame-colored wavy hair gleaming and bouncing under the warm light that came from the ceiling. 

“Not really. People usually think of me as the opposite of that.”

“Why? Because of your arm? Maybe they don’t know you really well.” She replied absentmindedly while taking a spoonful of food to her mouth. When he stared at her blankly, she added: “I mean the real you. Who you are underneath the grumpy stoic guy.” She swallowed and cleaned the side of her mouth with the long sleeves of her sweater in what was possibly the cutest thing he’d seen in a long while. He furrowed his brow, a little annoyed at how effortlessly she managed to be pleasant, bright, and appealing.

“To be completely honest, I’m not even sure who that is.”


	6. Chapter 6

Natasha tilted her head again, her messy ponytail bobbed to the other side now.

He intended it to sound almost confessionary, but instead, it came off as a middling existential crisis.

She stared at him for a few seconds: “I think I know what you mean.”

Somehow he doubted it, at least to the extent he knew it to be true. Still, he felt a small weight lifted off his chest. 

He watched her slurp some noodles in silence and did the same with his food. When she was done, she stood up and walked to the fridge. She took out two glasses of chocolate mousse and handed him one before collapsing on the sofa with a loud plop. She brought one leg up to her chest and licked her spoon distractedly. He shook his head trying to get the hair off his face.

“Y’know, honey...” She started.

“Hm?” 

“You could use a haircut. “

He opened his mouth to protest, even though he knew she was right, but she interrupted him before he could. 

“I’m happy to do it for you.” She leaned forward and touched his hair lightly.

He sighed. “Alright.” What the hell... If he was going to face this particular fear, it better be with someone he trusted.

Natasha smiled and stood up again. She set her half-eaten dessert on the coffee table and went rummaging inside her bathroom. She came out and stood at the door’s threshold, holding a pair of scissors, a towel, and a hair comb. 

“I thought I had that water spraying thingie-” Natasha made a trigger gesture with her fingers. “-but I can’t find it anywhere. So, c’mere.” 

He stood up and followed her inside the bathroom. 

“Lean forward.”

He obeyed.

Natasha opened the faucet and started wetting his hair evenly while trying not to get his shirt all soaked. When she was done, she stood facing him and dried out his hair like a patient mother. Bucky was sure he probably looked like a wet stray dog, long black hair sticking out in every direction. She started smiling when she saw the grumpy face he was making. She guided him out of the room and into the living room. She told him to sit on the floor with her back to her, while she took the towel from his hands and set it on his shoulders. Natasha took the scissors and started snapping at his raven-black hair. He stiffened instinctively, but he let her do her thing without reacting any further. He tried to focus his attention at the colorful wall, at the vase of pink flowers she had in her kitchen, at the door, at the pieces of his hair falling down, on anything, really, to stop frowning. Natasha kept cutting and combing through Bucky’s hair with steel-like precision, oblivious to his struggle, or so he thought.

“You do know I won’t hurt you, right?” She set the scissors down and put one hand on his shoulder blade and with the other she touched his cheek, making him turn around to face her. He hadn’t noticed he’d been clenching his jaw so tight. 

“I know.” He finally admitted through gritted teeth.

“We can stop if you want to…”

“No, please. It’s just... the sound-”

“-brings back bad memories?”

“Something like that.” Bucky said.

“Well, I don’t mean to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong, but you can trust me, neighbor. I’m here if you ever need someone. I might not look like much, but I’ve been through some shit myself… Maybe I can help lighten your burden, y’know..”

“Thank you, Natasha. You’re kind.”

“I try.” She smiled while picking up the scissors again to finish cutting his hair.

“Truth is, I don’t remember much, to begin with.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean just that… My past is nothing but a blur to me. The only reason I can tell you my own name is because of some stranger.” The words came pouring out of his mouth. He knew he ought to be more careful than this. But it felt good to finally reveal what little he knew to someone else. It felt like opening the door to a dusty cabinet in terrible need of fresh air. 

Natasha set her scissors aside and grew serious and quiet. After a few moments, she stood up and took the towel off his shoulders, then she sat back again, this time on the coffee table directly opposite him and she grabbed his hands and squeezed them. She seemed very concerned. 

“Tell me more.” 

Bucky tried his best to explain what little he knew about himself and the blonde stranger he’d been sent to kill, but ultimately ended up saving, not before almost pummeling him to death. He told her how out of touch with time he felt, and how he was almost sure he’d been alive for longer than most people, although he couldn’t remember much of those years. He recounted how thinking of his past even accidentally triggered terrible, sometimes even physically painful, responses. He confessed how uneasy he felt around people in general, and spoke about that white-hot rage inside him that drove him to exterminate targets like insects once upon a time. 

In the beginning, he tried to tiptoe around his past as a minion of HYDRA and the terribly high body count, speaking only of what he didn’t know about himself, but in the end, it had been impossible not to convey his sorrow without explaining in full. So Bucky just laid it out there. All of it. He told her how he’d escaped and was trying to stay out of their radar, at least long enough to figure out who he was and go back (or get captured, whichever happened first) to kill all of them, if he had to and how it may be the only way they’d leave him be. 

Natasha listened patiently and avoided making any sudden facial expression changes. When he finished, he stayed silent and waited impatiently for her to say anything. Her lack of a response was making him deeply uncomfortable. Maybe she’d think he was lying. Or worse, she’d think he was dangerous and would kick him out of her life. After all, what person in their right mind would befriend someone like him?

“So, you weren’t aware of what was happening?” She finally asked.

“N-no… I know that's not an excuse and it doesn’t change the part I played-” He started, still embarrassed.

“Not an excuse? Sweetheart, you were used. I thought this sort of stuff only happened in fiction.” She shook her head emphatically. “What you did all those years, it wasn’t you. You didn’t have a choice.” She grabbed his hands again, this time harder than before, before saying: “You are innocent.”

A half sigh, half huff escaped his nose almost involuntarily. “I know. But I did it. It was me pulling the trigger.” Tears welled in his eyes and he felt exposed and vulnerable and mad at himself for being so pathetic.

“Well, it's time someone told you. What they did to you… not even an animal deserves that. And you are not to blame.” She swallowed hard. 

“So, you don’t think I’m lying?” Bucky sounded optimistic, in spite of himself.

“Why would I ever think that?”

“I don’t know.” He replied in a soft voice. “It’s a lot to take in.”

“You don’t strike me as a liar. Or an evil person.”

“Does that mean you’re not scared of me?” Bucky asked, a thin layer of hope coating his tone.

“I’m... not.” 

He sighed in relief.

“Well. Actually, I am. But it's a good type of scared.”

He gave her a quizzical look.

“It’s the fear of the unknown. You intrigue me. You always have. But I feel like I got a good chunk of the puzzle now.”

He gave her a lazy smile. “Is that all I am to you? A puzzle?”

She smiled back and shook her head, but there was something else hiding behind her gaze. At least she took his comment with humor.

After a brief pause, he spoke again: “Natasha…” 

“What?”

“You can say it.” Bucky looked down, unable to look her in the eye.

She fumbled inside her mind for a few seconds, before deciding it was pointless. She wasn’t very good at pretending. “Alright, yes. It  _ is _ a lot to process. That’s some fucked up things they did to you... And I’m grateful you finally decided to trust me, but you’re right… I can’t help but be… a little bit afraid.” She winced as if she were trying to not offend him. “I can’t say I’m surprised though... to find out you actually did  _ that _ for a living, but still...”

He nodded in silence while looking down. “If it makes you feel any better… I would never hurt you.”  _ Not on purpose, anyway. _ He thought of adding but decided against it. The truth was, he still didn’t trust his mind or his past or his training, but he didn’t want to alienate her any further. “But I understand if you want to get away from me… It’s the sensible thing to do, right?”

“No… no way. I’m not leaving you. What kind of a friend would that make me?”

“I will try to earn your trust, Natasha.” He said, sincerely.

“You already have.” She kneeled down until she was facing him then she threw herself at his arms unexpectedly. She hugged him warmly. Bucky blinked a few times, trying to make sense of what was happening, still not used to physical contact, but eventually, he squeezed her tight, allowing himself to find respite in her arms for a few moments. It felt good to be close to someone and know he wasn’t alone anymore. He had her.


	7. Chapter 7

“Yes?” A comely girl with big green eyes opened the door. 

When he’d knocked on Natasha’s door, he never expected to see anyone other than Natasha on the other side of the threshold. So, when he was greeted by this stranger his first thought, pathetically enough, was: “Did she move away because of me?” And the stranger just stood there looking at him, like she had no clue what he wanted or whether or not he was a threat. And so they were locked in a bewildered state, each of them at a loss for words. 

But seeing their faces of confusion, Natasha yelled from the sofa: “I’m here, neighbor! It’s okay, Wanda. He’s a friend.” Her voice sounded off.

The skinny brown-haired girl stepped aside and let him in, still with a puzzled look on her face.

“I’m… sorry, Natasha. I didn’t mean to bother you. I didn’t know you had company...”

“Oh, please. You never bother me. Come on in. This is my friend, Wanda.” Natasha said, still sitting on the sofa. 

Wanda extended her hand in front of him and he shook it softly. Or at least he thought he’d intended it so. There was a short, strange - and he did mean  _ strange _ \- surge of energy that pulsated between their hands. It disoriented him for a second, but he tried to just shake it off and blame it on the increased static that sometimes came from having a metal attachment in his body. 

He introduced himself to be polite. “I’m Bucky.”

Wanda nodded briefly. “Pleasure.” 

Bucky looked around the room. He’d been there many times but having someone else in there made him feel a little out of his element. He heard Natasha fumbling around on the sofa, as she threw a cushion on top of something haphazardly and invited him to sit down.

“Oh, no. It’s alright. I just… I was on my way to the market. Do you need anything?”

“Um...” Natasha pondered for a second. “Actually, yes. I’m craving mint chocolate chip ice cream.” She sounded strained. 

He moved closer to her and that’s when he realized that her eyes were swollen and her cheeks had the faintest hint of red.

“Are you… crying?” He asked in the softest voice he was capable of.

“No…”

He stared at her gravely.

“I mean, yes.” She truly didn't like lying. “But you don’t need to worry. I’m in good hands.” She pointed to Wanda, who was standing beside him in silence and with an unreadable expression. She crossed her arms and squint her eyes a bit.

“Go bring me that ice cream. We’ll talk later, neighbor.”

“Natasha... I just can’t go when-”

“Yes, yes, you can. I’m fine, honey.”

Bucky shook his head a little and took out his right hand out of his pocket and brought it up to rub his temple, strong enough to leave red marks on his skin.

He felt impatient and also very protective of her. He wanted to grab her by the shoulders and make her tell him what was wrong, but that was a bad idea on so many levels, and he knew it. “Alright.” 

Wanda looked from his face to hers then back to his but still said nothing.

“I’ll look for you later.” Natasha said, forcing a smile. “Don’t take too long!”

\---

It was a little after sunset and they were sitting in her living room. After he came back from the market, he paced inside his apartment for what seemed like hours. Then he took up a book, trying to kill time until Wanda left, but he couldn’t concentrate on the words. Still, it was more productive to pretend, than to just stare at the white ceiling. 

He’d never seen that odd little girl before, but he guessed that if she was there, then things were pretty serious. Maybe something else had happened with her boyfriend. Maybe Natasha was in danger. Or maybe she was under so much pressure from his confession that she needed someone to confide in. And if that was the case, could he blame her? Sometimes he was in awe at his own ability to keep everything bottled up. 

Eventually, Natasha came looking for him. After she knocked on his door, she made tea for two, and now she was currently sitting in the middle of a fort of cushions. He was using one of the tiny chairs from her dining table that he'd dragged for the purpose of sitting opposite her. They’d been sitting there in silence for almost ten minutes now. Sometimes, he thought, she enjoyed making him wait. She refused to make eye contact and he was getting all sorts of impatient. All the worst things had already crossed his mind, yet his rational side told him to calm down and not seem too irritated, lest he scared her off. 

“Alright. Well, I guess there’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to say it: I’m pregnant.”

Bucky didn’t know how to react. He was sure that at least four different emotions passed his face before he settled on one. But he still couldn’t think of something to say.

“It’s…  _ his _ . But I decided to have it. I thought you should know.”

“Thank you… for telling me… But are you sure?”

“Yes, that’s why Wanda was here. I suspected something was up. I didn’t feel like myself. And I just- let’s just say I had reason to believe I might be pregnant. We’d been… intimate a few weeks before… well, before the incident. I called her here because I needed a friend to be with me while I waited for the test to be done.” She set down her cup on the floor. Natasha sounded unhappy but resigned. She was speaking in an oddly clinical voice.

He wondered why she hadn’t called him for support if that was what she needed. He lived literally steps away from her doorstep, and judging by the fact that had been the first time he’d seen Wanda, she lived far away or was always busy or both. Whereas he spent his days in between training - to stay sharp and focused - and waiting for Natasha to come back from college so he could go over to her apartment and sit on the floor and listen to her recounting her day while they ate. Her soothing voice appeased him and those moments he spent by her side were the only times he ever caught himself smiling.

During the day, he was always alone with his mind and he trained hard, not giving his body any quarter. He had raging thoughts of revenge against HYDRA, flashes of red from his past, and he experienced the thousand and one ways his brain kept strategizing pointlessly as if he were still at war. And maybe he was. But his nights… his nights belonged to her. That was when he gave himself permission to let his guard down and push his acidic thoughts to the back of his head, as hard as he could. During the night, he tried to heal. And Bucky thought they’d been getting closer. So, right now he felt a little dejected and his face showed it. 

She noticed it before too long: “I’m sorry I didn’t call you. I was so scared  \-  still am  - but I just felt like I needed my girlfriend here. I thought she might understand me better…” Natasha grimaced.

“I just wished I’d been here. I don’t know what good I would have been, but at least I would’ve been… by your side.” He explained while looking down at her fluffy carpet.

“You’re sweet to me, Bucky.”

He tried to give her a smile but wasn’t sure his face had cooperated.

Natasha stood up and put her hands on her hips: “Anyway! I have an appointment with my doctor early tomorrow and then I’m gonna go shopping with Wanda for some essentials she says I might need the first weeks. I already wrote to my professors to tell them I won’t be attending.” She sounded like she was trying to change the topic, or at least keep him from having a window to pose any questions. But he wasn’t going to let things slide this time. Bucky was growing more comfortable with her by now and one of the things he was remembering was how to be a friend.

“Natasha… how do you feel?”

“Oh, I’m fine. Shocked and a bit scared. But fine.”

“Natasha…” He sighed. He didn’t know the first thing about women, and she’d proven to be more resilient than he ever imagined, but she couldn’t be just ‘fine’. “You can talk to me. I’d listen.”

“I know you would…”

“Then why aren’t you-”

“There’s nothing else to say.”

“That’s… that can’t be true. Especially not after the way things ended with him.” He shifted in his seat, trying to get a look at her face. She’d moved her body sideways and stared at the far window.

“What exactly do you want me to say? That I’m scared and overwhelmed and can’t really process the fact that I’m pregnant with that bastard’s son?” She shook her head emphatically while her voice rose above her usual tone.

“I imagine you are. But that’s my point. You can’t keep it all inside. Talk to me.”

“That’s rich coming from you. You judge me but I can barely get three words out of you!” She spat out then looked at him quickly with a look of concern on her features. It was strange for her to be sarcastic or raise her voice.

Bucky guessed he deserved that one. He closed his eyes for a beat.

“I’m sorry.” She swallowed and lowered her gaze. 

“No, you’re right. It’s fine. I know I must seem like an infuriating person to be close to. I like to think I wasn’t always like this...”

“I said we could do things at your own pace. I’m not being fair to you. I guess that’s all I’m asking, too. To be able to do things at my own pace. And speak about this when I feel ready. Can you give me that? I know you care, but please, I’m not ready to get all candid about my thoughts and feelings ‘cuz at this point I’m not even sure what they are. My head’s in a  _ very _ fragile state, trying to cope with the fact that  \-  surprise! - I’m going to be a mother when I can barely take care of a houseplant.” She crumbled on the sofa. Her cheeks were flushed and the veins on her neck were slightly raised.

“Okay.” He stood up slowly and dragged the chair back to the lunch table and he stood next to it, awkwardly basking in the silence. He knew she was about to speak next, but just couldn't find the proper words, so he let her get her thoughts in order.

“I promise I will keep you in the loop. I’ll tell you what happens here-” She pointed to her stomach “And here-” Then she pointed to her head. “-but right now I just want to get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Sure.” He answered in a low voice then headed for the door. “Fair is fair.”


	8. Chapter 8

A soft rap on his door woke him up. He knew it was Natasha, she was the only person in the world who visited him, but still, he checked before opening. And sure enough, he saw her messy reddish hair through the peephole. He opened the door and saw her in her slightly bulky pajamas, holding a pillow in one hand and her blanket in the other. It was thrown all over her shoulders until it reached the floor. 

She looked beautiful in spite of the tiredness that lined the bottom of her eyes. She hadn't come around looking for him for days now and he felt the need to respect her choice, so he stayed away. But he’d peeped through his door more times than he was proud to admit, trying to catch a glimpse of her and know if she was alright at the very least. Sometimes he felt like such a creep.

“Hi, neighbor. Can I stay here?” She said in her delicate voice.

“Uh… sure.” He rubbed his eyes, trying to get the sleep off them. “Is everything okay?”

“Yep. Peaches. I’m just…” She paused and looked like she was trying to look for an excuse that made sense. “I’m-” She sighed before cringing. “I’m sad.”

“Sad?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“Yes?” She answered.

A faint meow distracted them from their conversation on the threshold. His kitten was moving his tiny paws and heading for the hallway. “Sorry, excuse me-” Bucky caught him before he took the stairs and ran down. Natasha stood there watching them with a curious eye.

“You’ve never introduced me to your cat.” Natasha grinned while eyeing the pet.

“This is Ike.” He walked back inside, holding the small black cat in his arms before setting it on the floor and closing the door behind Natasha, then he stood right in front of her. 

“That’s a strange name.”

Bucky smiled. “I know. I read it in the paper somewhere. Thought it fit him. Strange and short… Why are you sad?” 

“I’m not- sad. It’s not sadness. It’s… alright, I don’t know what it is, but it doesn’t feel right. I can’t sleep. I don’t like my apartment right now. It feels cold and empty and kinda scary.”

“Perhaps it’s loneliness?” He offered.

“Maybe. Possibly. Yes.” She responded. “But I’ve been there alone for months and I’ve never felt like that. I think it might be the hormones acting up.” She gestured with her hands and grabbed her stomach.

“If you’ve run away from your apartment because it’s making you sad, I’m afraid you’ve come to the wrong place.” Bucky said ironically while looking down at her. Her big amber eyes had their pupils extended wide.

“Have not. You're here.” She stated matter of factly, then smiled disarmingly sweet, like she’d won a big argument. “I just need to know there’s someone in close proximity. I won't bother you. I can sleep on your sofa chair.” She started walking toward the other side of his apartment.

“No, no, no-” Bucky said before grabbing her gently by her elbow as she tried to scurry away. “You will do no such thing. And least of all in your condition.”

“My condition? I’m pregnant, not invalid.” She huffed. “I can sleep sitting back just fine.”

In response, he guided her by the arm until they reached his bed and he made her turn around and sit. He took her pillow and her blanket and arranged them while she rolled her eyes and let him fumble around. Bucky grabbed his own pillow and blanket and walked to the sofa chair after turning his bedside light off.

\--- 

“Feeling ‘sad’ again?” He asked upon seeing her a second night in a row standing on his threshold. She rolled her eyes but nodded a little. 

By the third night, he wasn’t all that surprised to hear her knock on his door. By the fourth night, he’d left his door unlocked for her. And on the night after that, they’d just gone back to his apartment together after dining at her place. She brought her pillow and blanket the first few times, but since that day she left them perpetually on his bed. He smiled one morning while looking at his bed after she left for class because as her belly grew, so did the number of pillows and cushions on it. She was building a nest fit for an eagle. 

Meanwhile, he’d been spending his nights in his sofa chair. Not that he minded. He was used to much worse. And just knowing that she was sleeping comfortably and safely made his sleep that much easier. Besides, he could react quickly if the scumbag of her ex-boyfriend finally decided to make good on his promise to come back. Natasha had told Bucky that she would not try to contact the man, but how long until her belly became too big to hide and everyone found out and word reached him that she was carrying a baby? If that happened, he’d put two and two together and come knocking on her door before too soon. So Bucky was always alert.

\---

“Did I fall down and hit my head?” She asked, eyeing the plates on the kitchen counter, but her smile gleamed. 

He’d used the emergency key to her apartment to let himself in and prepare the food in her kitchen since it was better equipped. He’d cooked pasta and garlic bread, simple enough for him to not screw it up but it had turned out way better than expected. For dessert, he just bought her mint chocolate ice cream, since he wasn’t about to mess with her oven. Pastries and sweets were far too advanced for his rookie cooking skills.

“No. But you might want to do just that after trying this recipe.” Bucky joked and stood close behind her.

“A dark joke and a home-cooked meal all in one day? Don’t strain yourself, darlin’.” Natasha retorted but moved her head to the side to give him a big kiss on the cheek.

“S’good. Otherwise, I would’ve just thrown it out.” Even though he was getting more used to her displays of affection, he still blushed a little. He grabbed the chair for her. “But I was thinking maybe you could teach me how to cook...”

“Why on Earth?” She chuckled.

“It’s a life skill.”

“Yeah, but you’ve got me.”

“Ever heard that saying about teaching a man how to fish?” He set down a steamy plate in front of her. “You’re almost eight months pregnant now. Eventually, you won’t be able to do it all.”

She smiled in response and grabbed a napkin before devouring her plate. “Alright, I will..” 


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

While she showered, he did the dishes and when he finished, he leaned with his back against the sink, his white wife-beater a little wet on the front from the soap water. She came out of the shower singing lowly with her reddish hair up in a towel, and another bigger towel wrapped around her. Bucky couldn’t help but stare in appreciation. She was holding up well, and in spite of her fears, she was doing what she did best: moving on. 

It was moments like these, which they spent quietly in each other’s company that made him think that he wasn’t doing that bad after all. Natasha was a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos that surrounded him, a beautiful ray of sunlight that he’d realized that day, all those months ago, he’d gladly catch a bullet for. He just hoped - really, truly hoped - he never had to. Not because he’d be unable to rise up to the challenge, but rather because he wanted her to be as safe as he could keep her. 

She was leaning on the door of the bathroom, one leg on the ground for support, and another hiked up as she tried to apply lotion on it. But she lost her balance and her towel wiggled down. She grasped it quickly before it slid any further than her small breasts, which he could swear were looking fuller than before, but he’d still caught a glimpse. Her belly was becoming too big for her towels and her clothing to hide her body effectively. She turned a deep shade of red and lowered her gaze quickly back to her legs. It was too late anyway, but Bucky averted his eyes and turned his head in the other direction out of respect. 

“Maybe you should try sitting on an actual chair.”

“Groundbreaking thought, soldier.” She shot at him.

He peeked at her out of the corner of his eye and when he was sure she’d rearranged her towel, he looked in her direction again, with a slightly amused, yet confused look.

“I’ve tried that before. It doesn’t work.” When he kept staring at her, she clarified: “My belly gets in the way. I can’t bend over as comfortably while sitting down.”

“I can help you.” He offered.

“Thank God it was your idea ‘cuz I _ really _ didn’t want to ask.” She laughed in relief. “But yes, I would like some help. My skin is so dry nowadays.” She walked up to her couch and sank slowly. Bucky knelt across her and took her lotion bottle. He raised an eyebrow asking silently for an explanation.

She scratched the side of her neck unassumingly. “It’s just a little…” She traced off.

He cocked his head to the side.

“Nevermind.” She smirked, a lovely shade of red spreading on top of her freckles. “On moments like these, I stop wondering why you’re single.” 

She extended one of her legs and then it hit him. He opened his mouth as if to speak, changed his mind, then he opened it again: “To be honest with you, Natasha, I barely think about that. I can hardly speak to women. Apart from you.”

“Mhm. Sure.” She joked.

“You sound... incredulous.” He said while grabbing her ankle gently and lifting it up to his thigh. 

“That’s ‘cuz I am… You should start dating. It might give you  _ something _ to smile about. I bet a lot has changed since the last time you took a girl out on a date... However long that’s been.” Natasha pushed.

“I bet so too.” Bucky smiled a small smile and looked down, then he started rubbing her soft leg delicately, hoping she’d let it go.

“You’re handsome.” She stated calmly while grabbing his jaw to make him look at her. With a finger, she stroked the stubble underneath his chin very slowly. He looked her in the eye a little stunned but had no coherent reply. He felt naked under her scrutinizing gaze. 

“I, for one, think girls would line up for the off chance you might give them the time of day. Especially with that whole ‘silent and mysterious’ thing you got going on.” Natasha beamed, she was clearly enjoying this. Perhaps she liked to see him turn red and fumble for an answer. 

“Is that why you spoke to me in the first place?”

“Maybe…” She gave him a provocative smile. “I’ve always had a thing for bad boys. It gets me into all sorts of trouble but I can’t help it...”

Her comment was met with silence; Bucky smiled embarrassedly this time, color spreading over his face. He continued rubbing her leg carefully. He wasn’t sure if she was just saying that to tease him and he was too afraid to ask and head down that road, so he let it slide. The conversation, the proximity, and the touch was making him feel uncomfortable and a little out of step with all things romance and intimacy. 

That was one of those things that made him queasy with apprehension. Of course, he’d tried to picture himself with a girl in his arms before, but he always stopped before entertaining the idea too much. He felt less than adequate for the task. It wasn’t long usually before he remembered how awkward it would be to speak to them and how inconvenient it would be if he managed to take one on an actual date. 

Inconvenient, not just for the effort it would take to engage them like a normal man, but also because he kept thinking that the day HYDRA would decide to come back, whoever was by his side would be collateral damage. And his conscience simply didn’t allow him to do that. What he had with Natasha went against that belief already and he was terrified of the possibility of being the culprit if something ever happened to her, particularly now that she was holding precious life inside of her. 

His thoughts wandered back to the present. When he offered to help her, he really wasn’t thinking of anything sexual. But it was starting to seem more and more like a bad idea. Especially when he switched his attention to her other leg and her thighs spread far enough for him to realize that she was still naked underneath. It had been barely just a second; she hadn’t seen where his eyes had wandered up to, but as much of a gentleman as he was trying to be, his blood started to pool in places that made him shift uncomfortably. 

He still stroked her other leg tenderly, so as not to hurt her, but in reality, he was trying to be as machine-minded as possible, because right now, just as she was, still damp, semi-nude and with her round belly in between them like a reminder of how attractive and nubile she was, long-forgotten instincts were surging trying to overpower him.

“What happened? Cat got your tongue?” She said in a playful voice. Now was really the worst time for her to keep talking, especially in her sultry tone.

“I think that’s a subject for another day.” Bucky cleared his throat slightly and set down her leg now that he was done. 

“Alright.” She smiled, still oblivious, while he thought of how to rearrange his pants out of her eyesight when he stood up, eventually. “But before I deliver this baby, you’re going to have someone. I’ll make sure of that.” Natasha laughed.

“If you say so.”

“You don’t know about my cupid skills yet, darlin’.” She said proudly. “Actually, my feet are really swollen, too.” She said apologetically. “Think you could-?” Natasha shifted.

Bucky looked at them, she was right.

“Can you massage them for a while?”

He looked at her and decided that while touching her was the last thing he needed right now, this might give him an opportunity to delay his having to stand up. 

“Sure.” He took her legs on his lap again, this time concentrating on the soles of her feet. He’d avoided touching her with his bionic arm before precisely because of the way she recoiled when it touched her. At least the sting of her reaction made him think of something else. He couldn’t blame her, her flesh felt so warm and his artificial hand always radiated cold.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I owe you like a month of home-cooked meals.”

“You feeling better is payment enough.” He stated.

“Where were you all my life?” 


	10. Chapter 10

Bucky was laying in his bed trying to read a book when he heard her closing the door to her apartment followed by a loud thump. He got up and opened his door, passing his cat Ike on his way to it. It was laundry day and she was about to take a big load of clothes down the stairs. He closed the entrance behind him and greeted her.

“Hey, neighbor.” He started.

“Hey.” She answered back.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” Bucky leaned against his door frame with his arms and legs crossed and chuckled lowly.

She stared at him blankly. “Laundry. What does it look like?”

“Like you’re 8 months pregnant and can’t carry a full basket all by yourself. For starters.”

“If only I had a big, strong neighbor with free time on his hands. And oh, look, you’re here! Make yourself useful.” Natasha said sarcastically then laughed and her liquid gold eyes crinkled on the corners. 

She kicked the heavy basket his way and rubbed a hand in front of her stomach absently. She had a pair of black boxer briefs that looked remarkably like some he’d ‘lost’ recently; a white crop top, made from a t-shirt that fit too big with a loose knot on the side  \-  which was probably his too \-  and nothing underneath. He could see the shape of her soft breasts through the thin fabric, as well as her bare torso in all of its glory. He’d rather she didn’t display her pregnancy like that, but everyone at the apartment complex knew already, so there was no point in hiding it anymore. 

“Happy to help.”

“Nuh-uh. Put a shirt on first. You don’t wanna give the old ladies in the building a heart attack, do you?” Natasha scolded him.

He opened the door and threw something on quickly to cover his arm.

“Why didn’t you call me?” He said as he exited his apartment for the second time.

“I was about to. But apparently, you also got super-hearing, soldier.” Natasha replied while grabbing her back and flinching a little. She was sitting at the top of the stairs, her stomach too big now to be up for long periods of time.

“You know, Natasha, everything you’re wearing looks oddly familiar.”

She gave him an apologetic look. “I hope you don’t mind. But I got a good reason. Well, reasons. A: I’ve had no clean clothes for a week; B: everything I own feels itchy and nothing fits me anymore!; and C-” She stopped listing suddenly. “Shit.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Natasha…”

“It’s so embarrassing.” She fussed.

“What is it?”

“You smell so good. I’m craving it. Well. The baby is craving it. Through me.” She cringed.

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up. “I… didn’t know you could crave a smell.”

“I’m telling you it’s real. Look, pregnant women are into all sorts of weird shit. It’s not my fault.” Natasha crossed her arms and tried to look grumpy.

“No judging… It’s just-” He took the basket with his left arm. “That’s the last thing I ever pictured anyone saying about me.”He offered her his other hand to help her stand up and she took it. 

“Shut up.” She hissed.

Bucky shook his head amused, then they started going downstairs. When they reached the old laundry room, she went straight to the chair near the washing machines, while he put the clothes in and poured detergent all over them.

“You look cute doing the chores.” She said and looked at him smirking.

“Do I?” Bucky smirked back. He noticed he smiled a lot more now.

“Yeah. Looks like you’re finally housebroken. You’re about as threatening as Ike.” She laughed and grabbed a magazine that was laying around the window and started flipping through the pages distractedly.

“So, I don’t scare you anymore?” He said referring to that conversation they’d had months before.

“Nope… Sorry, pal, but your big muscles and mean face don’t scare me anymore.” Natasha replied without lifting her face from the glossy pages. 

“Not even this? Bucky lifted his metal arm. 

“Not even that.” She punctuated.

He smiled, closed the lid of the washing machine, and sat on the floor near her, with his back touching her knees. They stayed in silence for a while.

“How does it feel?”

“Sorry, darlin’. What was that?”

“I said, how does it feel?” Bucky repeated.

“How does  _ what _ feel?”

“The baby. Inside.” He looked at her sideways and pointed to her bump with his head. He had his hair in a low bun behind his neck.

“Oh.” She put her magazine down and thought for a second. “Like slowly growing a watermelon inside of a rubber balloon.”

He shook his head and laughed.

“It’s uncomfortable, honey. Not gonna lie. Everything is tender and sore: my back, my legs, my feet, my breasts… The skin around my belly itches. My stomach feels like it’s been relocated to just below my throat. It’s hard to keep food down. I have to pee every 30 minutes. I can’t stand the smell of lavender soap and anything with pineapple on it makes me sick. And it’s kinda… bewildering to see your body being transformed so quickly. I have days where I barely recognize myself in the mirror.” 

She grabbed stray locks of his hair and caressed them gently, then she moved her fingers to graze them against his scalp in a soothing motion. In response, he rearranged his body until his back was resting against the side of her thigh and he let his head fall softly on her lap. She undid his bun and kept stroking his head very lightly. Then her fingers found their way to his chest and she rubbed his muscles affectionately.

“Tell me more.” He’d always been curious about pregnancies, but he’d never had the chance to ask a woman about it.

“Well, then there’s the emotional side of it, of course. My hormones are out of whack. I feel excited and tired at the same time. Some days I wake up panicking about labor, feeling so inadequate at basically everything and I cry if I burn my toast. I can get angry if someone chews too loud. Other days I just want to go to town and find a man to-” She stopped. “I’m just… I feel like a dog in heat and it’s so frustrating.” 

He didn’t need to turn his head to know she was blushing. Bucky wanted to say something but didn’t know exactly what. He stared at the wall in front of him. “Why don’t you?” He asked.

“Who would have sex with me like this? Besides, aren’t you supposed to say that’s a horrible idea?”

“Yeah, I should…” He tried putting on his stern voice. 

“Most days I just want to smell you. That… helps.”

He lifted his head from her lap now and wrinkled his brow.

Natasha’s face rushed with bright blood. He felt like he needed to react somehow.

“I know it sounds weird. But for some reason, it’s the only thing I crave. That and white rice with lots of cinnamon.” She explained, referring to her weird food of choice lately. In the first few months, it had been scrambled eggs with mustard. Bucky lost count of the number of times he’d had to rush into town at midnight to buy her things. The lady on the graveyard shift at the grocery store always gave him the strangest looks.

“That qualifies as the creepiest thing I’ve ever told, well, anyone.”

Bucky tried to hold back his laugh but failed. “I didn’t even know I smelled… I barely use cologne.”

“It’s not that. It’s you. Your own smell. Why do you think I keep sleeping in your apartment?”

“And here I was thinking that you felt lonely.” He smiled lazily.

She put her nose to his hair and inhaled. “You smell like… I can’t even describe it. But I could pick you from a crowd of a hundred... And I should probably stop talking now!” Natasha put her hands around his neck in a warm embrace. He put both his hands on top of her arms and squeezed tightly.

“I don’t mind.”

A noise startled them. Bucky stiffened and instinctively sat straight like a watchdog. It was just one of the girls from the floor below theirs. He relaxed a little and hid his hand out of her eyesight surreptitiously. She entered the laundry room with a load of dirty clothes, eyed them out of the corner of her eye, and walked in silence to a washing machine. Natasha decided to pace around the room to stretch her legs. The girl was working fast and after she brought the lid of her washing machine down, she practically bolted for the door. 

Natasha laughed: “I think she’s scared of you.”

“I haven’t done anything.” Bucky furrowed his brow.

“I know, which only makes it more hilarious. Also, I’m pretty sure she thinks you’re the father. Half of the building does, to be honest.”

“I rather have them think that than the alternative.” He stated in his quiet voice, he wasn’t sure if he was crossing a line with his comment, but he said it, anyway.

Natasha shot him a glance and bit her lip, then slowly lowered her gaze. “Me too.” She said in a murmur. “I just hope you never leave me.”

He laughed softly too. “I’m not leaving you.”

“Good. ‘Cuz I'll kill you.” Natasha looked away and kept walking slowly around the room, inspecting everything she saw.

He knew she was joking, but still, something in her eyes told him she was actually asking him to never leave her side. She needed him. He felt wanted. He felt like somehow he belonged. Bucky stood up and stopped right behind her, making Natasha pause her walking, then he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her as tight as he could without hurting them.

“I promise.” He whispered and made her turn around so he could plant a kiss on her forehead. 

Natasha held onto him for a while and they stood like that until their neighbor entered the room again and shifted uncomfortably upon seeing them. She walked up to her empty laundry basket and picked up something she’d apparently left behind before exiting again. When he thought of all the months they’d spent getting to know each other, helping each other and bonding slowly, he felt a strange sense of pride over how he’d earned her trust and how far they’d come. 

Sometimes it felt too good to be true though and he got anxious thinking that it would end. He knew that something or rather, someone was bound to come disturbing his peace and he was scared for Natasha and her baby. He’d said that eventually, he’d go looking for HYDRA if they didn’t find him first, but every day that passed, he let go of that piece of him more, and a desire to live a quiet life was taking hold of him. He could spend the rest of his days in that building if it meant living an undisturbed life. 

“Told you. She’s scared of you.” Natasha chuckled but soon a scowl passed her face. “Ow.” Her hands flew to her belly. 

“What is it?”

“I think it’s a contraction.”

“Is it time?!” Bucky asked alarmed.

“Nope. I don’t think so. I’ve been getting these sporadically.” Another painful throb hit her and she pressed her lips together to keep from cursing. “My doctor says it’s normal to get them this late in the last trimester.” 

“Come, sit down.” Bucky grabbed her hand and guided her to the chair.

“No, no. I’d rather go... up where no one can... hear me scream and put on some warm compresses.” Her breath was a little uneven. She let go of his hand and headed for the door. 

“You can’t go up like that.”

“I can still walk.” She put pressure on her back with one hand.

“Natasha, let me help you.”

“I’m fine. Really. I can go up slowly. Stay here with my clothes.” Natasha started going up the stairs.

“No way. Dammit, Natasha, stop!” He grabbed her elbow. His mood soured thinking that she could hurt herself, yet she still refused to accept his help.

She turned around surprised at his tone more than anything. “Jesus, honey. I’m alright. It’s just a bit of pain.” She said in a calming voice and laughed nervously. It was striking him as really ironic that she was trying to be casual about it, while he was the one losing his temper. “See? It’s just this little rascal’s way of saying ‘hello’.” Natasha took his hand and put it on top of her belly so he could feel the baby kicking. “Sometimes she likes to kick mommy  _ really _ hard. That’s all.” She reassured him through gritted teeth.

“I’m sorry-” Bucky started but he stopped as his eyes opened up and his face lit up completely. “I felt that!” He laughed out loud. “I felt it! She’s strong... Wait a minute, how do you know it’s a she?” He scowled. “The doctor told you already?”

“Uh, no. I’m going this Monday. I told him to hold it until the last few months.”

“Can I… can I go with you?”

“Of course, baby. But right now, I just want to lie down.”

“I’m carrying you.”

“Yeah, no, you’re not.”

“There are five sets of stairs up to our floor.” He stated flatly.

“I’ll go real slow.” She’d already walked two or three steps farther up.

Bucky caught her by the back and lifted her up in his arms like she weighed two pounds. “I really wasn’t asking.”


	11. Chapter 11

Natasha entered his apartment with a key he’d made her and caught him sitting on the floor playing with his cat. Ike was jumping through the air trying to catch a piece of meat he had on his fingers. He scratched fruitlessly against his metal arm. If she didn't have such a pressing thing to say, she’d take a moment to appreciate his playful side a little more.

“Hey.” He greeted her before she could speak. 

“Hi.” She said plainly.

“What? No ‘good morning, honey? That’s uncharacteristically cold of you.” He chuckled a little.

“I have something to tell you.”

He picked up on her mood swiftly and finally threw the piece of meat to Ike to get him off himself. “Are you alright?” He asked, his face growing serious. “Did someone hurt you?”

“N-no. It’s not… that.”

He stood up and put a hand on her lower back and guided her to his sofa chair. She took off her coat while on the way and threw it aside carelessly. Even though it was still late October, winter was drawing closer and she couldn’t stand the chilly winds outside. While kneeling on one knee, he rested his right hand on top of her hands and looked at her face expectantly.

“You know how I was supposed to swing by the furniture store?”

“That’s where you were?” He asked, confused. His eyebrows shot up. “You went without me? I thought we were going to go together.” Bucky’s voice sounded strangely hurt.

“Yes, yes, I know, I’m sorry. You can chastise me later.” Natasha took out her hands from under his. She looked spooked. “Anyway, I was walking by the museum and I saw a flyer posted in one of their columns announcing their new exhibit. It had… it had your face on it. Or at least someone that looked an awful lot like you.” She looked away.

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“How could it be me?”

“I went inside to see it and I… I think it’s _really_ you. It says your name is James Buchanan Barnes and you were born-” She paused and swallowed. “You were born in 1917. You fought next to Steve Rogers in the Second World War and you were- you were captured, tortured, experimented on, then Steve found you and then… and then you died.” She concluded.

He fell back and sat on the floor again, clearly overcome by all she was telling him.

“Died?”

“How can you be dead?” She asked him as if he were the wiser. “Are you… dead?”

“Clearly not.” Bucky answered in the middle of his confusion.

“You should be… dead, I mean. Or at least way older than what you look.”

His eyes went blank as he started piecing things together. Some bits of his past were starting to come back now.

“Look inside my coat.” She added.

He found a flyer with the title of the exhibit and a black & white picture of him standing next to Steve Rogers and a handful of other soldiers.

“I think I need a minute.”

“Wait.”

Natasha was already halfway to the door but she stopped and looked back.

“Don’t leave. Let’s go to this place. I need to see this.”

Natasha sighed and her lip quivered. “I don’t know. You’d be taking a great risk if what you say about these HYDRA guys is true… and besides-”

“Besides what? You... you look very pale. Are you sure you’re okay?” Bucky got sidetracked, he stood up and tried to put a hand on her arm, but she avoided his touch.

“I’m okay.”

Bucky took a step back and scanned her face. “I think you’re lying. You’ve been avoiding my gaze since you got here. Are you… scared of me?”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“You were afraid before when I told you what I did. But you looked past that. What’s changed?”

She opened her mouth but couldn’t articulate.

“I’m still me. And I still wouldn’t hurt you.”

She gathered her thoughts and spoke: “I just found out you were almost a century ago! And you don’t look a day over 30. I’m not scared of you, I’m just... shocked. And miserable. And mad. Because this is worse than I ever pictured, Bucky. I can’t imagine how you survived all of this and I’m finding it very hard to look you in the eye right now without crying.”

“Then please, Natasha, do this with me. Help me understand this. Help me... know myself. There has to be a reason for all this misery. Be there with me, please.” Bucky was one second away from admitting that he was too scared to go on his own.

Natasha was trying hard to hide her apprehension, yet it was written on her face clear as day. Still, in the end, she agreed. “If we do this, we need to be extra careful.”

“We will.”

\---

He walked in front of Natasha and opened the door of the furniture store for her. She took off her gloves, while he left his on and switched places to walk ahead of him now. A clerk was soon offering to show them around. He took them to the cribs section at Natasha’s request, where he started asking them some basic questions. They’d just come out of the museum and a somber mood hung in between them. Neither one had said much on the way back, the weight of all they’d just seen was slowly sinking in and they both needed silence to process it properly. 

“Are you looking for any specific color or size? The clerk inquired.

“Not really. I have this idea that when I see it, I’ll know.” Natasha said as she eyed a pinewood crib before discarding it.

“How soon are you guys expecting?”

“A month, more or less.” She answered.

“Ah, well in that case I hope you find something to your liking in here. For example, this white wood crib is one of the best sold in here.”

She passed her hand along the rails and tilted her head. “I’m not sure… maybe something a little cozier.”

“What does dad think?” The clerk asked Bucky, who was closely inspecting a walnut crib behind her and keeping to himself.

He looked up with wide eyes and lips slightly parted to Natasha, who only smiled while rubbing her belly and went along with the employee.

“Yeah, what does daddy think?” Natasha grinned again, she was clearly enjoying this. 

“I, uh-” He was blushing and he felt very stupid. This wasn't the first time someone had assumed he was the father. So why was he suddenly fumbling for words? At least something had livened up their mood.

“Actually, why don’t you go pick the bathtub and the dining chair? And I’ll catch up with you.” He told a mildly confused Natasha, before turning to the clerk and asking: “Can I speak with you?”

“Of course, sir. I’m here to help.”

“Is it possible to buy only the mattress?” Bucky asked after making sure that Natasha was out of earshot.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know jackshit about medical procedures lmao I just did a google search. Also, sorry if things get a little queasy...

The look on Natasha’s face when she opened the door to his apartment and saw a perfectly carved walnut crib had been worth the white lie he’d told her to get her out of the furniture store without the main item they’d been looking for, as well as the long hours he’d spent working on it. He’d woken up early on a Saturday to buy the wood slabs and the supplies he needed and he spent all weekend measuring, cutting, carving and serrating, while she went to visit her parents. 

Even though he briefly considered following her instead to make sure she arrived alright, he stopped when he realized how alarmed she’d probably be at his stalker-like inclinations. He had to trust that she’d be fine. He had offered to go with her but she declined, saying that she needed to speak about them about something concerning her ex-boyfriend. Although, he had an inkling that she rather her parents didn’t meet  _ him _ , all sullen silences and imposing looks. 

And so, instead of staying cooped up in his apartment all weekend worrying while she went away, he preferred the alternative. Building her the crib she needed was a better use of his time. Since he entered the furniture store, he knew he wanted to be the one to build it for her, he just didn’t know how to make it without her noticing. So, when she said she wanted to see her parents, he saw the perfect chance.

“Sweetie?”

“Yeah?” He answered from the bathroom. He was about to take a shower to take off all the sawdust and sweat, but he hadn’t gone into the tub yet.

“What’s this?” He heard her ask from the living room.

“Uh. There’s a note.” Bucky answered before wrapping a towel around his waist and coming out. And when he did, he felt her jump into his arms and give him a string of kisses on his cheek. He wrapped his arms around her back and gripped her securely, always cautious that she didn’t slip or hurt herself.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” She shrieked, excitement overcoming her.

He grinned. “You’re welcome. It’s my shower gift to you and the little one. They still do those, right?” He set her down carefully.

“It’s beautiful and I love it and oh, God! I can’t believe you did this! Who even carves wood anymore? Did you make the headboard too?!” Natasha asked him, referring to the carvings. It had two wolves standing at each side of it guarding the middle of the headboard.

“Yeah…” He smiled bashfully and scratched the back of his neck. “I had an idea and it worked out. I’m surprised it turned out this good.”

“This is it. This is the one. I just hope it fits through the door.”

“It does.”

“Well, then, soldier, you better move it to my apartment.” She chuckled.

“I was going to. I meant to surprise you over there. But you got here before time.”

“Yeah, dad brought me back early.”

“After I shower, then.” He put a hand on his hips.

“Oh, right.” She said, eyeing his towel. “I’ll be over there.” She pointed to her apartment. “And remember we have that appointment tomorrow.”

“Of course.”

\---

“Natasha Romanoff?”

“Yes?” She answered while she tried to sit up. Bucky gave her a hand and she was finally able to lift herself.

“Follow me.” The nurse said, smiling. “The technician is ready for you.”

He intended to trail after them, but Natasha winced as she took her first steps and turned to him. She leaned into him and he put an arm around her waist for support.

“It’s getting harder to walk every day.”

The nurse opened the door to the office and left them with the technician that greeted them before telling them to sit down; Natasha sat on the examination table and Bucky sat on the chair next to it. She bared her belly and flinched a little when the cold gel was poured on her stomach. He laced his gloved fingers together and leaned his elbows on his knees to get a better look at the screen.

“I think this is your last scheduled appointment, Mrs. Romanoff.”

“Miss.” She corrected her.

“My bad.” The technician apologized while putting the ultrasound stick on her belly and starting her search.

“It’s alright. We’re not married. He has trouble getting the words out.” She lied to the technician and winked at him.

He was looking at her with a fake look of annoyance on his face, but he went along with it.

“He has trouble getting  _ any _ words out, as a matter of fact.” Natasha went on.

“It’s perfectly normal. We get a lot of spooked dads in here. Words suddenly escape them.” The technician said in a relaxed voice, while she kept on scanning her belly. “Alright, there’s the baby. I understand you’re coming to do the gender reveal.”

“Yeah.” 

“So do you want me to just say it? Are you ready?”

“Do it.” Natasha replied before adding: “No, wait. Don’t. Hang on a second... If it’s a boy…” She looked straight at Bucky now. “I want to name him James.”

He opened his eyes wide, clearly not expecting her to say this.

“And if it’s a girl… James will be fine too. In fact, I think it will sound even better on a girl.” She smiled at him, the dimples marking her cheeks stood out prominently.

“I…” He cleared his throat. “Uh, I’m-” He pursed his lips and nodded. He felt as if something was stuck to his throat making him choke. He stood up all emotional and paced around the pastel-colored room.

Natasha looked at the nurse, who was smiling knowingly. They grinned while waiting for him to speak. Bucky started laughing, suddenly overcome. “Thank you.” He passed a hand through his stubble.

“You can cry. It’s fine.” The sonographer chuckled.

“I’m okay.” 

“Sure.” The women answered at the same time.

“Jesus, Natasha!” He laughed some more, unable to contain himself. He looked her in the eye, a million words in his mind, but neither of them would probably sound alright coming from him. He felt awkward expressing himself but she nodded knowingly, seemingly being able to guess what he was thinking.

“Well, it’s a girl.” The nurse announced. “You’re having a girl.” She repeated and grinned. “Congratulations!”

“A girl?” Bucky inhaled deeply before leaning in to kiss Natasha’s forehead. He rested his face against hers for a moment. 

“Ring or not, James is going to be the luckiest girl in the world.” The technician added. “I can tell how much you two love each other. I’ll give you a moment. I need to consult the doctor about something. I’ll be back.” She said before closing the door on them.

James took a step back and asked: “When were you going to tell me? You caught me off guard.” He shook his head emphatically.

“I just thought about it. I’ve been toying around with some names but none of them sounded right.”

“Thank you for the honor.”

“My pleasure. You mean the world to us both.” Natasha said sitting back up. She gave him an earnest smile while squeezing his hands.

The technician entered the room quicker than they expected, bringing the doctor with her. They stood in a corner looking over some papers and discussing them low. 

“Alright, Miss Romanoff. Sir.” The doctor started. “Congratulations on your girl!” 

“Thank you!” 

“I’m sorry but here’s something else we need to check. We have reason to think that your placenta is not quite where it's supposed to be. We might need to perform another test to be sure.”

“What kind of test?” Natasha asked apprehensively.

“Another ultrasound. Specifically, a transvaginal ultrasound.”

“That sounds… invasive.” Natasha replied.

“It is… But it will allow us to get a better look at your cervix and your placenta.”

“I just want my baby to be fine. Let’s do it.” 

“Good. You’re welcome to wait outside, if you desire.” He addressed Bucky, who was standing in between Natasha and them.

“It’s alright, he can stay.” Natasha responded.

“Very well. Please, lay completely on your back. Put each toe on either side of the table...” The doctor said distractedly to her while he looked at another piece of paper. ”

Bucky’s eyes widened.

“It’s alright. All of you have seen me naked at some point before, right?” Natasha retorted.

Bucky sat down on a chair next to the head of the bed.

“Alright, Miss Romanoff. I’m going to introduce this transducer. You might feel some slight pressure and discomfort but it’s totally normal.”

Natasha nodded. “Go ahead.” 

Bucky watched her grimace and he did the same on a reflex. 

The technician was standing next to the doctor, she was pushing buttons and typing on her scanner while he probed her.

“You okay?” Bucky asked in a small voice.

“Mhm. That feels… so odd.”

The technician and the doctor continued speaking between them before he addressed Natasha: “Alright, we’re almost there, miss.” He moved the transducer from one direction to another and Natasha made a face.

“Make sure to take an image of this.” The doctor said to his assistant.

Bucky squeezed Natasha’s arm for support. Seeing her in pain made him uncomfortable.

“Okay. All done. My colleague and I will step outside while you get dressed and then we’ll discuss the results together.”


	13. Chapter 13

“Well, that was quite a scare.” Natasha commented as she crumbled on her sofa. “My heart stopped when he read that sheet.”

Bucky sat on the ground next to her and sighed. “I’m glad you and little Jamie are okay.” 

“Thank you… Believe me, I am too.” She smiled. “So, what do you have against chairs and sofas?”

“Nothing.” He smiled back. “I’m just not used to them. They feel… strange. Like they are too comfortable.”

“You’re not on the run anymore. You’re allowed to rest… to let your guard down, y’know.”

“I know.”

“Then rest. C’mere.”

He turned his head to look up at her.

“Sit next to me and hug me.”

He kept looking at her like she was speaking Greek.

“That’s an order, soldier!”

“You know, according to that museum, I was a Sergeant.”

“Well, I still outrank you. End of discussion.” Natasha grinned.

“Yes, ma’am.” Bucky replied chuckling. He sat flush to her. She rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes with a sigh.

“Maybe I should move to your other side.” He said with a hint of nervousness he hoped she hadn’t noticed.

“Why?”

“Well, because my arm-”

“It’s fine.”

“But-”

“It’s _ fiiine _ .” She stretched out the last vowel as she took out her phone and rummaged through her texts.

“Okay.”

“After the second week of knowing you, my brain barely registered it anymore.” Natasha grazed it with her fingers and left her hand on top of it absently. It was a strange feeling for him, but not one that was totally unwelcomed.

“Can I ask you something, Natasha?”

“Of course. What is it?”

“Earlier, when you said that everyone in the room had seen you... naked at some point… what um- what did you mean? I’ve never-”

“You’ve never? Really?” Natasha laughed. “You can stop pretending any minute now.”

Bucky gave her a look of confusion, not sure whether he should admit it and tell her it had been an accident or continue denying it.

“What, you think I didn’t see you? I may have been born yesterday, compared to you, old man, but I’m really not that naive.” She hit him in the chest playfully before undoing her ponytail, her red wavy hair came down in cascades to just below her breasts. The smell of her mango shampoo intoxicated his senses briefly before she tied it up again in a messy loose bun.

“Besides, you’re terrible at hiding your emotions.”

“I am?”

“Mhm.”

“Did not know that. Guess I’ll have to try harder.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. ‘Cuz what you need is precisely the opposite of that. I’m getting to know you more and more each day and I still haven’t found the ugly scary guy you seem to think you are. So, don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“You haven’t seen the worst… you wouldn’t want to.” Bucky looked down at his hands and contracted them vaguely.

She grabbed a cushion and put it in front of her belly. “I wouldn’t want to ‘cuz I don’t want to see you suffer. But your worst is still worthy of being loved.”

He looked stunned for the better part of a minute. Suddenly, she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek unhurriedly and he blushed the color of her hair.

“See? Terrible.” She giggled.

“Thank you, Natasha.” 

“No problem, big guy. You have my back and I have yours.” She leaned on his shoulder again and he entwined his other arm with hers to come rest on her stomach.

“I don’t know where I would be without you.”

“Eating stale crackers and peanut butter sandwiches, that’s for sure.” 

“Very funny.”

Silence fell for a few minutes, but after a while, she spoke again. “Anyway, next time you wanna see me naked, you gotta take me out on a date first, at the very least.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” He defended himself.

She laughed out loud.

“You really enjoy making me uncomfortable.”

“Uncomfortable? I’d never!” She said in a fake offended tone. “I just like seeing you with your defenses down. Immensely. You become a whole ‘nother person.” 

“I can see that.”

“Seriously, do I make you uncomfortable?”

“Just… a bit uneasy.” He admitted defeat.

She looked at him and squinted. “Uneasy how?”

“Well- it’s just...” Bucky sighed. “I don’t even know…” He gestured.

“My God… you really are out of practice!” She opened her mouth in an exaggerated gesture of surprise.

Bucky threw his head back on the sofa feeling beat.

“I’m telling you, you should start practicing with me if you ever want to stand a chance outside.”

“What?” 

“You heard me. Now, show me something.”

“Natasha…”

“Just do it. Flirt with me. Throw me your best line.” Her golden eyes gleamed.

“I- I can’t.”

“Why not? Don’t be such a wuss.” She egged him.

“It feels… wrong. I mean, you’re so young.” He half-lied. 

“I’ve had sex before, you know. It’s how this happened.” She pointed to her belly.

“Alright, look me in the eye and pretend like I’m not 8 years old according to yourself, and say something. Anything. Otherwise, your chances of succeeding on that date I promised I’d get you are zero.”

“I don’t need a date.” Bucky responded.

“Why not?”

“Because… Because I’m perfectly happy here near you. I don’t need anything else.”

“Are you telling me you can’t even fake flirt with me?”

“The thing is… I don’t do that. I don’t do things half-way. If I say something it’s because I mean it.”

“Woah, consider my feelings hurt.” She joked although he could sense there was something else hidden in her voice.

“As you said, I’m not very good at hiding my feelings.”

“Mean it then.” She winked at him and put on a saucy smile. It was getting harder and harder for him to distinguish when she was joking and when she wasn't.

“Natasha…” He warned weakly.

“Ugh… I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m being annoying. Fine, don’t say anything. Maybe it’s for the best.” She stood up and went to pick up her shoes from the floor and grimaced when she bent. “I’m going to take a bath and then maybe take a nap. I’m exhausted. You’re welcome to stay. Or go. Whatever you want.”

“Natasha… don’t- don’t get mad.”

“I’m not. But I really feel tired. And I need to stop talking shit before I get myself into something I can’t handle, so...”

“You’re not talking shit.”

“I kinda am. It’s a bad habit of mine.” She walked to the bathroom and closed the door.

Almost half an hour later, when she came out wrapped in towels, she saw him sitting still on the sofa and jumped slightly. “God! I thought you were long gone.”

“I think I owe you something.”

“You do?”

“Yes. A compliment.” He walked up to her smiling. 

She rolled her eyes and said: “No, you don’t. I was just trying to get a reaction out of you. It’s fine.”

“Still…” Bucky put his arms around her waist in a tight grip. You’re the most beautiful girl I know.”

Natasha touched his arms briefly before undoing their embrace and walking straight ahead to her bedroom. “I think I win that one by default. I’m the prettiest person you know, period.”

“I knew you’d say that. There’s no pleasing you, is there?” He shook his head and followed her around.

She wrinkled her face like a kitten in a lovely gesture. “Nope. And this is the part I get naked and climb under the covers. It’s also an excellent moment for you to leave.”

“I’m… overstaying my welcome, aren’t I?” He asked slowly.

She sat on the edge of her bed, in spite of having carried a sizable amount of pillows and cushions to his bed over the last few months, she still had enough to sleep like a queen. “No, cupcake. I just… I feel like tucking myself in a cocoon and being comfortable for a while. My back hurts, my feet hurt, I feel so  _ heavy _ .” She sighed. “I’d let you stay. But I really don’t feel like putting clothes on.”

Bucky got closer to her and nodded. “Alright.” He leaned in to give her a kiss when something in her drawer caught his attention. But she closed it before he could ask.

“What? The doctor said it would help.” She blushed.

Bucky leaned his head to the side, he had no idea what that was or what she was referring to.

“Y’know, with the tension. Lower back pain, contractions. It gets the blood flowing.” But when she saw he still had a face of massive confusion, she said: “Nevermind. Now, unless you’re going to volunteer, close the door after you.”

“Volunteer for… what?”

“I said ‘nevermind’.” 

“Are you talking about sex again?”

“Well, if you can’t tell, does it matter?” Natasha chuckled. 

Bucky turned his face away from her gaze. He was trying really hard to not flush red. His gaze came to rest on the legs of the bed and suddenly, he remembered the first  \-  and only \- time he’d been here many months ago to fix her broken bed with a metal baton. 

“I never got around to asking you. What happened to your bed? Why- why did it break?”

“Uh… well… long story short, my ex-boyfriend and I broke it.” She lowered her head.

“Oh.”

“N-not like that. It’s not what you’re thinking. He broke it by throwing _ me _ against it. I had- I had bruises on my back for days.” She stuttered while remembering.

Bucky frowned. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“I barely knew you.” Natasha said nonchalantly while she took off the towel that covered her hair and tousled it a little.

“Yeah, but I would’ve helped you anyway.”

“You did.”

“I mean before that. I keep thinking I should’ve known! I should’ve known by the way you guys were always fighting or by the way he grabbed you. I could’ve done something sooner.”

“Don’t do that, darling. Don’t beat yourself up over it. Take it from me. Every so often I feel so stupid by the way I handled things. But there’s nothing we can do about the past. No matter how much we wish we could.”

“You never told me why you didn’t want to leave him…”

Natasha hesitated. “I told you it was complicated...”

“You did. But it’s been irking me since then. I’d like to know… why. Please.” Bucky sat next to her on the bed.

“He used to work with my dad. He was his superior. And he… threatened me. He said he’d have him fired if I ever left him. And my parents really needed the money at the time. I didn’t want to do that to them. I kept thinking that if I held on for just a little longer, eventually he’d get tired of me and leave us alone but... it never happened. Things kept getting worse.” She was looking at the wall, her eyes a little unfocused before she blinked and scanned his face. “You seem surprised. I bet you didn’t think it was something like this.”

“I’m more surprised he had a job.”

“It was a construction firm. My dad got fired from his previous employer and that’s how he stumbled upon him. Then he met me and we started dating and… well, you know the rest.”

“Thank you for telling me.”

Natasha nodded.

“Well, I’ll go now. You know where I’ll be.” Bucky said exhaling, he didn’t want to make things more awkward. She was clearly tired and now he’d probably made her sad as well.

“Hang on, James.”

He looked back over his shoulders. It was the first time she’d ever called him that. And the first time in God knows how many years he’d heard his real name out loud. “Yes?”

“Stay. I don’t feel like being alone after all.” Natasha extended her palm and beckoned him. “I’ll put something on.” 

He sat down on her bed again while she rummaged through her drawers and found a camisole. She put it against her body trying to measure it on top of her towel. Even he could see it wouldn’t fit her anymore.

“Take this.” He offered before taking his shirt off and throwing it in the air. “You’ve stolen all my clothes already anyway.” He laid back with an arm behind his head.

She caught it and smiled. “Thanks.” She put it on top of her towel and then undid the towel underneath the shirt. It fell to the ground with a rustle. She climbed onto the bed and put her back to him. At first, he only laid there unmoving, watching as her chest rose and fell steadily, but her waist was starting to look more and more inviting. Feeling bold, he shifted and put his arm around her and they fell asleep like that.


	14. Chapter 14

Natasha woke up a few hours later from their nap and rubbed her eyes. She tried to shift in bed only to feel a heavy arm around her. As good as it felt to have him near and as much as she really didn’t want to disturb his sleep, her bladder was about to burst, so she moved as gently as she could. Lucky for her, he woke up easily and she was able to make a run for it. When she entered the room again he was leaning against his elbow, he smiled and moved to make room for her. She laid down again and stared at the ceiling for a few seconds before the inevitable pain in her back started and she had to move sideways facing him.

“I suppose you can’t wait to push little Jamie out.”

“You have no idea. I’m surprised my back is even able to bend inwards so much.” 

“Just a few more weeks and we’ll finally meet her... What are you going to miss the most?”

“About being pregnant?” She huffed. “That’s difficult. Probably being so close to her. Feeling her inside of me. I want to shelter her forever… I’ll tell you what I won’t miss though.”

“What’s that?”

“Apart from my whole body being in pain… probably the hormone swings.”

“You seem to be holding up pretty well.” His blue eyes twinkled in the relative darkness of the room, the sun was past its setting point and the remnants of the day bathed a small part of the walls in dull orange.

“Do I? I’m a great actress then.”

Bucky chuckled and his chest rumbled low. She put a hand on top of his hard chest and he soon covered it with his own before kissing it gently. She shut her eyes and sighed leisurely. 

“This feels good, honey. Too good.” She withdrew her hand.

“Too good?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m not going anywhere. And I will not let anything happen to you.”

Natasha smiled groggily. “That’s not exactly what I meant.”

“What, then?”

“You are still so clueless… Nothing. Forget it. Let’s go back to sleep.”

\---

When Natasha woke up the next day, she found Bucky laying back on her couch reading one of the books from the shelves. 

“Morning, handsome.”

“Hey, there. I didn’t hear you come in.” He set the book down.

“My two-tons heavy body just sneaked up on a super-soldier... on a wooden floor… really?”

“I must be getting old.” Bucky grinned.

Natasha turned on the coffee machine. “Oh, you betcha.”

“You slept for more than 12 hours.”

“I’m not even sorry. All I wanna do is sleep until the delivery date.”

Bucky walked up to the kitchen and passed an arm around her before greeting her with a kiss on her cheek. “The problem is, that leaves me with nothing to do around here. I considered building you another crib and everything.” He joked as he opened the fridge to take some orange juice but as soon as he smelled the container, he made a face. 

“You could’ve gone grocery shopping to kill time. I think everything in the fridge has expired.” Natasha reached for the sliced bread and turned on the toaster.

“I’ll go later.”

Her reddish hair was falling in messy strands away from her loose bun. She made a guttural sound of exhaustion and leaned into him like a needy child wanting to be held and he complied. “I feel like shit.”

“Well, you just woke up.”

“Why is my belly still growing? Isn’t she big enough already?” She whimpered in protest with her head firmly against his chest. Bucky put his chin against the top of her head. 

“Shhh, it’s okay. You’re almost there.” Natasha gazed up to him through her curly brown lashes. She had light purple bags under her eyes and she still looked endearing. Her tiredness somehow made her cuter. She was still wearing his shirt  \-  with nothing underneath \-  he realized when he put his hands to her hips to keep her well inside his grip.

“Let’s watch TV and eat whatever’s not expired in the fridge.” Natasha yawned and stretched herself and her shirt rode dangerously up the front of her thighs. 

Last night he’d fallen asleep so quickly, he hadn’t had time to process the fact that she didn’t have any underwear on. But having noticed it now, he wasn’t sure his brain would cooperate. And he wasn’t about to spend the rest of the day trying to get that image off his head. The coffee machine made a beeping sound and she grabbed a cup to pour herself the hot liquid.

“Maybe put some clothes on before.” 

“Do you want your shirt back? I gotta say shirtlessness suits you.” Natasha said humorously, before taking a sip of coffee. “Please, don’t take it back, I have nothing else that fits.” She pleaded immediately after.

“No, I mean… some clothes  _ underneath _ .” Bucky swallowed and looked away.

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m sorry. Am I bothering you?” She inquired, voice chock-full of irony. “Too bad.” She walked away into her living room. “My house, my rules.”

“Natasha…”

“Don’t ‘Natasha’ me.”

“It’s a little...”

“Distracting? Annoying? Arousing?”

“A bit of everything.” He answered honestly, still not looking her in the eyes.

“Well, now I’m  _ really _ not getting dressed. I mean, I wasn’t going to before but-” She giggled. “I can finally confirm you’re not all made of metal.” She sipped her coffee sassily. He was going to reply when the toaster made a sound and she got ahead of himself: “Can you bring me my toast, please, babe?” Natasha requested nonchalantly.

“Don’t do that.” His voice sounded like a cross between a plea and a complaint. Still, he grabbed the bread and brought it to her then sat next to her.

She furrowed her brow and smirked. “Why not?”

“Because…” In the absence of a coherent reply, he sighed.

“You like what you see?” Her tone was down to almost a raspy whisper. Her bare foot crept up his leg and stroked his thigh.

He opened his mouth, but she interrupted him. “Don’t answer that. I’m messing with you.” She removed her foot when she saw the look on his face.

“See, that’s the thing, Natasha. Sometimes I can’t tell when you’re joking and it’s… it’s messing with my head.”

“Just your head?” She flirted, still not grasping the extent of his words, but then she grew serious instantly. “Wait, what do you mean?”

“What I said. It’s confusing. You’re confusing.” The words were pouring out of him, even though he strongly preferred to keep his muddled thoughts to himself. His expression hardened.

Natasha scanned his face and set down her cup on the coffee table. “Alright. I’ll go change. I’m sorry, James.” She kept her gaze low and stood up quickly.

Bucky grabbed her arm to keep her from scurrying away. “No, don’t say that. Don’t apologize.”

“See? Now you’re confusing me. I don’t get it.”

“You don’t need to say ‘sorry’. Just help me understand.” Bucky stood up and faced her, they were less than a foot apart now.

“H-how do I do that?”

“Being straight with me. Assume I’ll always need a footnote. Can you do that?”

Her answer, as well as everything about her, caught him off guard and unprepared. A soldier without a strategy was not a very good soldier. In all the months he spent by her side, he’d never felt more human and more alive as he did when she got on her tiptoes and her lips grazed his. It barely lasted a couple of seconds, but it was enough to make him question everything.

“Is that straight enough?” She turned away and closed the door of her bedroom behind, leaving him stranded in the middle of the apartment in a state of extreme bewilderment.


	15. Chapter 15

Instead of waiting for her to come out and give him an explanation, he decided to trust his instincts. He opened the door to her bedroom and stepped inside to find her putting on some underwear. He marched straight to her and grabbed her face a little too harshly and then he kissed her, this time making sure she was well inside his grasp and wouldn’t run off again. She was taken aback, but soon her tense body relaxed and she stepped closer to him. Bucky slipped his tongue inside her mouth and then he made her walk backward until she slammed her back against the wall. 

“Shit.” He said, separating his mouth from hers. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“Don’t stop now. Don’t you fucking dare.” Natasha grabbed his neck and pulled him into her to resume their kiss. 

Bucky’s hands traveled to her back acting as a barrier between her and the wall, but as the seconds progressed he felt a strong urge to grab her by the hips and lift her up. He raised her as carefully as he could and quickly brought them to her bed. He felt that having her on top of him would make things easier. When Bucky sat down on the edge of the bed, he kept his left arm behind her back for support but with his other hand, he started stroking her supple thighs as she straddled him. 

Her skin was incredibly soft and warm and never in a million years he imagined he would ever be touching them, yet here he was and he didn’t want to stop. As he moved his lips to her neck, she moaned sweetly against his ear. Natasha tangled her fingers in his messy hair with one hand and with the other she started scraping against his chest, his shoulders and his back muscles. The sensation was foreign but extremely welcomed. 

Bucky inhaled her smell and buried his nose in the crook of her neck. He wanted to bite her and kiss her and lick her all at the same time and he couldn’t seem to be able to settle on just one task, which didn’t seem to matter to Natasha, because her moans were increasing in frequency and in volume. Her weight, the closeness, the friction and the heat coming from her center was driving him insane. Bucky moved his fingers to take off her shirt and she put no resistance. 

He pecked at her lips again and lingered for a moment with his eyes closed before opening them to look down at her breasts. She jumped on his mouth quickly and he had to settle for short peeks in between indecent kisses. Not long after that, her hand wandered down to his pants and Bucky made a sound he wasn’t proud of and she laughed. Natasha had him on the palm of her hand, quite literally, and she was relishing it.

“You’re evil.”

“You have no idea.” She purred against his ear.

“Natasha, st-stop.” He grabbed her hand in a hurry.

“Why?”

“That feels _too_ good.” 

“Then have me.” It was almost a plea.

“Y-you’re preg-” He started.

“-Already pregnant, so…”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. I trust you.”

Natasha stood up and kept her eyes on his face watching his reaction as she took off her underwear. He looked equal parts dazed and nervous. She stayed there motionless for a few heartbeats, allowing him to finally get a good look at her. Her flaming red hair framed her freckled face and spread across her chest. Her breasts rested atop her huge mouth-watering bump. He couldn’t explain why, but her belly awakened something primal inside of him and if it were up to him, he’d be down at his feet worshipping her like she was his queen and him, the lowest of her subjects. 

Her hips and thighs were curvier than he’d imagined, maybe it was the extra weight she’d gained from the pregnancy, but she looked healthy and plump. The light coming from the window bathed her in a glorious morning glow. His head was spinning as if he’d just taken a heavy ride on a roller coaster. Bucky followed her with his gaze as she circled the bed and climbed on it, wondering how on Earth he’d gotten so lucky. When she sat on the bed and put her arms inside her semi-spread knees, her face started to turn a light shade of pink. Natasha was looking at him now through parted swollen lips and dilated pupils, the picture of desire.

He started to kiss the soles of her feet reverentially and moved up her legs and past her thighs. He settled his mouth on the slope of her hip, tracing its round surface, before kissing her belly passionately and finally her beckoning lips. He moved his body on top of hers and she made room for him. He passed a hand against Natasha’s cheek and she closed her golden eyes and sighed. He smiled and decided to keep kissing her face and neck. Her chest started to heave as she lifted her arms to the headboard and tried to grasp something, anything, to steady herself.

Natasha’s moans and gasps and little sighs were a new sound he wanted to keep preserved in his memory forever, just as much as he wanted to embed in his pupils the way she shut her eyes tightly and her mouth opened up in a perfect ‘o’ when she writhed around needily in bed. It was almost enough to send him over the edge, but he was able to hold himself back thinking that he’d soon feel her wrapped around him tightly if he was only patient. He smiled proud and predatory, being the one to blame for her reactions felt so good that if she decided to kick him out of her bed now, at least he’d have this moment to treasure.

Natasha asked him with a hoarse voice: “James?”

“Yeah?”

“You could at least pretend to not be enjoying this situation so much.”

He chuckled. “The tables turned and you don’t like it?” 

“Oh, I like it. But you don’t have to be so smug about it.” She answered playfully, grabbing his shoulders and feeling the hard muscles underneath his skin move.

He had to hover a few inches above her, supporting all his weight on his arms so as not to crush her belly. Then, her hands started tugging impatiently at the hem of his pants. And when they came off she wasted no time in switching places with him and moving to lay on top of him to take control. Natasha’s weight rested on top of his thighs now and if he had to pick a place to die, right then and there would be it. As she slowly took him in, Bucky closed his eyes and let the sensation of being enveloped in her hot flesh spread over his every nerve ending. 

His body had missed this. His brain was firing up random images of several women in his head. Given time, he was sure he’d be able to remember their names and their faces but right now he didn’t want to think of anyone else but her. He wanted nothing else but to satisfy Natasha. Then, when she tensed and arched the curve of her back, she made the most beautiful half whimper, half moan that ended with his name whispered by her sweet lips. And he, unable to stave it off any longer, unraveled along with her.

Bucky slid to sit down on the ground to try and normalize his breathing. Sweat was trickling down his chest and body. He heard as she moved around in bed until she was lying sideways, then he felt her hand touching his hair and caressing his neck in light, intimate touches, inviting him to lay his head back on the mattress. Her breath warmed his ear and her essence was all around him. They stayed that way for a long time, in that peaceful state between sleep and consciousness where words are beside the point and he couldn’t tell when they actually fell asleep.

\---

As Bucky set down the plate of milk for his cat, he heard a soft tap on the door of his apartment. When he opened it Natasha stepped in wearing his shirt again. 

She looked at him and raised an eyebrow: “Why’d you bail?”

“Bail?” He chuckled.

“Yes, you left after I fell asleep. Didn’t even leave a note.” She crossed her arms and made a slight gesture of annoyance.

“A note? I live right here.” He laughed some more. In spite of his act, Bucky was actually enjoying her little scene. “I came here for a moment to feed the cat. He’s been alone all this-” Natasha interrupted him by throwing herself on his arms. She gave him a sugary kiss, her lips were surely the purest thing he’d ever tasted. They were sensual and plump and addicting, much like her.

“You better not be running away from me now, mister”

“No, ma’am.” He kissed her back, his chest felt about to burst from joy.

“Good. ’Cuz I was thinking... I’m not done with you just yet.” She leaned into his ear and whispered low.

“Back for more?” His eyes gleamed, he closed the door in case someone was around.

“How’d you guess?”

“You have that look on your face.”

“What look?” She hit him playfully.

“The one you’ve been-”

“-giving you for the past few months?” She finished his sentence. “Took you long enough to notice!” Natasha snapped.

Bucky smiled and followed the scent of her hair to the crook of her neck. He kissed her there and waited for her mouth to ask for more. And she didn’t let him down.

“If I would’ve known your mouth was this good…” Natasha moved her head back to give him more space. 

He smiled against the hot skin of her neck, his stubble scratched her and she made a very tempting sound. His hands rested on top of her round stomach for a long moment before moving to grab her ass and finally, he raised her by the hips against the kitchen counter. He went in for a kiss but she was deliberately delaying her mouth on his. She moved her face around and laughed all kittenish until he grunted in frustration and grabbed her jaw to make her stop and she moaned under his rough touch.

Then Natasha grabbed his hand from her face and guided it to her thighs as if silently saying ‘touch me’; her urgency was noticeable. His fingers slithered farther up, feeling the slick skin inside her legs until he found what he was looking for. Their mouths were all over each other’s lips, whenever she wasn’t panting. He watched her as closely as he could, memorizing the shape of her shut eyes, her flushed round cheeks, her impossibly red lips, her quivering chest, and her beautiful breasts against the cotton fabric of her shirt. 

As he pleasured her, she grabbed his bottom lip and bit it until she drew blood, then breathed straight into his open mouth and he received her sweet air until her breathing steadied. As soon as that happened, he bent down and put his mouth on her thighs. Bucky caressed her velvety skin with the tip of his nose before lapping at her flesh and licking subserviently.

Natasha’s fingers ran through his black hair absently and she bit her lip and smiled hazily. “Mmm. It’s okay, I think I should go take a bath.”

He stopped his ministrations and dried his mouth on the back of his hand. Natasha wiggled until her feet touched the floor. Bucky clasped his hand around her arm and kept her from taking any more steps forward.

“Am I invited?”

“That depends.” She grinned.

“On?”

“Whether or not you can behave.” She turned around and gave him a look. If she was going for stern it was having the opposite effect. She could barely keep a straight face.

“That’s not what you wanted me to do a few moments ago, but alright.” He replied nonchalantly.

“Play nice.” She leaned in and kissed him unhurriedly. “I might keep you.”

He watched as she crossed the hallway in between their apartments and smiled in anticipation. He trailed her into the bathroom as she removed her clothes and opened the faucet before sitting in the bathtub. He took off his stained sweater pants to sit behind her. Natasha rested her back against his solid chest and closed her eyes with a languid sigh. He traced the skin on her arms absently, trying to slow his breathing. The water kept filling the tub with a calming trickle. 

Bucky cleared his throat. “How are you feeling?” He squeezed her tightly.

“I’m good, baby.” She smiled inside his arms and relished his touch.

“And the little one? I didn’t- Right?” He tumbled on his words but she understood his meaning.

“No, you didn’t hurt us. If anything you were surprisingly...  _ gentle. _ ” She said the last word almost tauntingly.

“What do you mean?”

“I always imagined you’d be  _ way _ more aggressive.”

The words ‘always’ and ‘imagined’ caught his attention. Together they implied she had thought about having him, and more than once too, apparently. His heart was beating faster. 

“You sound disappointed.” 

“Maybe I was expecting you to rough me around a little more. And gawk at me a little less. You looked spooked.” She laughed out loud. 

There was no denying she was right. He’d felt like a deer caught in headlights all the way through.

“I mean, a man your size...” Natasha turned and added suggestively while sliding her index down his torso. “But overall, not bad.” She smiled cheekily.

“Are you actually criticizing my… technique?” 

“I’m just messing with you.” She giggled and lifted her feet to come rest against the edge of the bathtub.

“As usual.” He stated.

“As usual.” She repeated and craned her neck to give him a wet sloppy kiss.

“Well, I was trying not to hurt you. Push little Jamie out first and then we’ll see who’s gentle.”

“Is that a promise?” She winked at him before resting her head against his shoulder.

“Damn right.” Bucky raised an eyebrow and eyed her with a dirty smirk. He passed his mouth along her neck and shoulders longingly. Now that he’d tasted her, he wanted to have her at all hours, if possible. Natasha moaned and grazed her long nails against his thighs leaving a slightly pinkish trail on his skin. 

“James…”

“Mmm?” He kept leaving little kisses along the skin within his reach.

“Didn’t I tell you to play nice?” He could tell Natasha was trying to sound stern.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Then why aren’t ya?” She twisted around in his grip as if trying to dissolve into him. If she truly wanted him to stop, she wasn’t helping. Her ass rubbed dangerously against his lap.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky’s words contradicted his actions. He sank his teeth on her shoulder then twirled his tongue around the fresh bruise he’d just made, to which she opened her mouth. He passed an arm around her breast to draw her even closer back into him and he kept making bites to lick and suck along her neck. He could feel the blood starting to pool in between his legs again. He wanted nothing more but to feel her delicate hands touching him, but another sound coming from her startled him, and this one sounded far from pleasure. Her hand flew to her stomach and his hand came to rest on top of hers instinctively.

“Natasha?” He asked cautiously. “What is it?”


	16. Chapter 16

“I think it’s a contraction.” She grimaced then exclaimed in pain when another one hit her.

“Let’s get you to bed and make you comfortable.”

She nodded emphatically. “Okay.”

Bucky stood up swiftly to put a towel around his waist, then he took her hands and helped her move. Natasha stood up inside the bathtub on wobbly legs and tried to take a step but her knees buckled and she exclaimed again, this time louder than before. 

“Ohhh. Shit, baby. It really hurts. Take me out, take me out.” 

Bucky scooped her up and brought her to the bed where he set her down before sitting next to her.

“What if it’s time?” He could see the panic in her eyes.

“Maybe it’s not. You said it yourself, the pain gets worse as the delivery date gets near.” Bucky tried to reassure her. He grabbed her hand and kissed it.

Her breathing was increasing. “But what if it’s today?!”

“Then we’ll deal with it. Can I bring you anything… or do anything at all?” He offered to try to distract her.

“Heat- heat helps.” She got out before another contraction hit her and she sucked in her breath audibly. 

“I’ll be right back.” He went outside and looked around her apartment, thinking of what he could bring her. 

Perhaps he could boil some water and put it in warm compresses around her belly. He seemed to remember she’d said once that it helped. While the pot on the stove boiled, he looked for clean towels. First, he brought her one to lay on her bed before the sheets got soaked, then he folded another and left it at the corner of the bed, in case they needed it later. When the water was hot enough, he put it in a large basin he found in her bathroom and took smaller towels to dab them in the liquid and spread them around her belly. 

Natasha wasted no time in laying them on her skin and laying sideways. She grabbed one of her pillows and put it in between the mattress and her large bump for support. She was huffing through the pain and she kept on grimacing and breathing unevenly for the better part of an hour. Natasha was changing the towels as soon as she couldn’t feel the heat anymore and he watched every little gesture she made and frowned whenever she winced. Two hours later on the clock and she still wasn’t getting any better. She said this was fixing to be the longest time she’d ever spent with contractions and the fear in her eyes was more noticeable than before. 

Bucky put another few liters of water to boil because she’d already used the first basin he’d brought her and when he entered the room again he found her walking around the room with her hands rubbing her stomach harshly. Natasha’s face was contorted into a scowl but her breaths had steadied somehow. He could tell she was trying to deliberately inhale and exhale now. 

He put the water in the container and grabbed her forearms. “What are you doing, sweetheart? Lay back down until the pain goes away.”

“I don’t think it’s going away, James.” She exhaled and clenched her jaw. “My water just broke.”

“What?”

“You’ve never called me sweetheart before.” Natasha remarked and tried to smile.

“What do you mean your water broke? When? Now?!” He shook her slightly trying to make her focus.

“Yeah, yes, yes. Now. Do that again.”

“Do what?”

“Call me sweet names.”

His gaze ventured past her belly until it reached her legs. There was a steady trickle of liquid coming down from inside her thighs.  _ Fucking hell. _

“Sit back down, beautiful”

“No! Let me walk. I wanna walk. It started already and there’s nothing we can do to stop it.”

“Should w-we get someone? I’m going to take you to the hospital.” He thought out loud.

“Oh, no. You won’t. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Natasha…”

“I’ve told you before: don’t ‘Natasha’ me.” She scowled slightly and massaged her pelvis. “I’m having this baby here and you’re going to help me and that’s the end of that. Now- agh- now... fill the tub with clean hot water.” Her tone left little room for debate so he turned around and did as he was told.

“It’s ready.” Bucky came back into the room and found her sitting on the floor with her back to the bed and her legs crossed in a lotus position.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to find a position where it doesn’t hurt so goddamn much.” She retorted through gritted teeth then exhaled very slowly. Bucky knelt next to her and passed a hand down his beard, then he grabbed her chin and leaned forward to kiss her mouth in an effort to distract her and reassure her and make her think of something else for a split second. At first, he thought Natasha might push him back or yell at him, but instead, she brushed her lips against his own.

“Thank you. For sticking around.”

“Of course.”

“I wish I could make you understand... how- how much you mean to me.” Natasha continued and her voice broke in the end. Maybe from the pain, maybe from something else, but the fact of the matter is that her eyes filled up with tears and she stifled a cry.

“I wish the same.” Bucky answered and kissed her once more with all the affection he could muster.

“Oww… it hurts. It hurts.” Natasha sobbed and shifted until she was kneeling instead of sitting and she rested her forehead against his shoulder. 

Bucky’s arms passed around her waist and he tried to rub her lower back instinctively. He kissed her crown and he stayed still as she fussed around, her nails dug on his skin and he let her take it out on him. Her painful cries sounded like they were coming from a wounded animal and he could feel them tugging and tearing at his heart. He wished he could somehow take her pain into him and experience it for her. He excelled at bearing pain and it frustrated him to no end to know that the one thing he was actually good at was of no use to her. They were pushing closer to the third hour now since the first contractions.

“Bring me some painkillers.”

“But-”

“Yes! Yes! I know! They won’t do much. But I need  _ something _ . Please.”

He stood up and brought her a bottle of ibuprofen which she slapped from his hands. She took four and downed them without any water.

“Do you want to go back to the tub now?” 

“Y-yes.”

He lifted her as gently as he could and put her back into the tub. As soon as she felt the hot water touch her skin, she moaned in relief and closed her eyes for several seconds. Her hands were on her own belly, putting pressure on it as if she could somehow conjure her baby girl to slide out painlessly. Bucky threw his own towel aside and sat inside the tub behind her again and made her lean back into him. They laid like that for almost ten minutes and her breath steadied and her exclamations subsided. 

He realized, feeling almost stupid, that the contractions came in bouts, then left for minutes, and that’s why she had a few moments where she laid still. When the next wave of contractions hit her, she shot forward immediately and gripped the edges of the bathtub with strength. Her hair was sticking to her neck and shoulders; Bucky grabbed the scrunchie she had on her wrist and tied it up for her while she sobbed quietly.

“Make it stop, please, James, make it stop. I can’t- I can’t-” She shook her head and he leaned forward to press his body against her reassuringly. Tears were cascading down her face and into her neck, mixing with her sweat.

“Shhh, shhh. I’m here, darling. It’s alright. You’re doing amazing. Try to breathe steadily again.”

“I have to push. I can feel her coming down. If I could just- agh-” Her face contorted and she started bearing down. 

For long minutes all the sounds Bucky could hear were her pants and wails on a broken voice. He couldn't even begin to imagine the agony she was going through, but if the way her body was contorting tortuously was any indication, she was on the verge of passing out. By some miracle, she kept on pushing and he tried to do all he could to comfort her. 

He passed her hands down her back and caressed her muscles, her arms, her stomach, he poured water all over her head and her sweaty forehead to refresh her and he didn’t let go of her, even if his skin - bearing the brunt of her sharp nails - was looking pretty bad. Suddenly, she stopped pushing and brought a hand down to her pelvis.

“I can feel her head. I can feel her-” 

“Keep going, we’re nearly there, doll.”

And heaven finally heard his silent prayers, because in no time little Jamie was out and Natasha collapsed back on his chest sobbing with her eyes closed, trying to catch her breath. “Take her, please.”

Bucky looked at the crimson water in between her legs that mixed well with the blood she’d drawn from his own skin, to see a tiny ball of flesh covered in purple and his first instinct was to lean forward and grip her tightly so she wouldn’t slip between his fingers. He took her out of the water in a sort of awe-struck wonder, her little eyes squinted shut as if she was still sleeping, and he brought her to Natasha’s chest who received her without opening her eyes. He couldn’t believe it but she was really here... and she was perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> Look me up on Tumblr! deans-ch-ch-cherrypie.tumblr.com
> 
> In case you want to support me: https://ko-fi.com/amyponders


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